Remember How We Were
by beezyland
Summary: AKA The Nickelly Chronicles ... Every time Kelly smiles, Nicky still feels like he's in the presence of that bossy little girl who he kissed for the first time on a trampoline. Co-written by Life's Crash Test Dummy


**Author(s):** B (Creatively Licensed B) & Jess (Life's Crash Test Dummy/LCTD)

**Disclaimer**: Don't own recognizable characters or settings. The rest is ours.

**Warning:** Some coarse language; minor suggestive sexual situations; Alternate Universe

**A/N**: Two authors. Ten days. One massively epic monster story. Immeasurable love for our completely imaginary Nickelly. Jess wrote a lot of this with me, but I (B) was too lazy to log out of my account and log in to our joint account. Proof of our joint insanity. PACE YOURSELF. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>-BB-<strong>

**Remember How We Were**

...

Nicky and Kelly have been in each other's lives even longer than gymnastics. They can't escape each other, but it isn't like they'd ever want to.

…

"Snow all in his hair. If he gets sick, his mother is going to kill me." Donovan Russo, orthopedic surgeon extraordinaire, complains as he dusts bits of melting ice from his son's unruly dark hair, naturally sticking up in all different directions. The toddler, Nicky Russo, settled in his father's arms, quizzically looks around with his big brown eyes, pale cheeks gone rosy from the weather.

From beside him, Richard Parker chuckles. The two old friends from med school walk side by side down a hotel hallway. With their busy schedules keeping them apart on a daily basis, the two families make it a point to vacation in Aspen every year for a little skiing, high-class eateries and relaxation. It's been a longstanding tradition, flying in right after Christmas and staying to celebrate the New Year.

"Where are those women?" Richard asks. When Donovan spots his wife, Michelle, along with Richard's wife, Sheila, and little Kelly Parker across the hotel lobby, he laughs. When Richard follows Don's line of sight and sees the group of ladies, he slaps his palm against his forehead. "Good lord, Sheila, what did you do to my daughter!"

"What do you mean?" Sheila plays dumb with a devious smile, cradling her youngster in her arms. Richard meets them halfway and pokes at his daughter's dark brown hair twirled up into two buns. "I think it's cute."

"I think it looks like ears," Don comments.

"Or horns," Richard adds.

Little Kelly Parker, with her bronze skin, plump cheeks and large, doe eyes, extends both arms towards her father. Sheila lets Richard whisk their Kelly away and grinning the way only a parent could, he spins her in a circle, making Kelly giggle before gently kissing her forehead and holding her tight.

"It's my fault, Rich. I might have gotten a little carried away when I was doing her hair," Michelle pipes in. "Can you blame me? Look what I usually have to work with." Michelle turns to her little son in her husband's hold, ruffling Nicky's messy hair. No matter how much she moves it, his hair goes right back to it's original place, sticking up at awkward angles.

"Kelly, say hi to Nicky," Sheila coos. Richard takes his daughter over toward Nicky and Kelly immediately shies away, tucking her head under her dad's chin, biting on the edge of her tiny thumb. Nicky just stares at her with his head tilted. He does a lot of that. "Aww, why are you so shy, sweetie? Honestly, he is all she asked about on the drive up here."

"Him too," Michelle insists. Making her voice higher in an imitation of her son, she goes on, "Ma, where's Parks? I want my fwen!" The adults share a laugh while the two continue to stare, intrigued by the other miniature-sized human in the group. "Isn't that right, Nicky?"

He too turns coy and their parents trade knowing smiles. In both their baby books, they have each other's name listed as _first friend_. With how close their parents are, those two spending time together is inevitable.

"Alright, let's get these two inside. The slopes await," Richard says excitedly. He sets Kelly down on her feet and Don does the same with Nicky. Without any prompting, Kelly automatically takes Nicky's little hand in hers and drags him along.

The hotel they're staying at has a variety of activities for the children, including Gym Juniors Club, a program designed to not only care for the children while their parents are out enjoying Aspen, but also to help them develop body awareness with an introduction of basic gymnastics skills. The two children waddle along, forever at each other's side and linked by their tiny fingers, as their fathers get them checked in at the front desk.

"Match made in heaven if I ever seen it." Sheila clicks her tongue, looking at her young daughter and her best friends' son. Standing beside her, Michelle shakes her head and threads her fingers through her pin straight hair.

"You sound just like my husband. Don is already saving for the wedding."

"Richie is the same way. Kelly is barely speaking full sentences and he's already ready to just give his daughter away," Sheila says airily, waving her hand. Smiling, Sheila gives Michelle's arm a pinch. "I'm warning you now, Elle, if your boy gets my sweet angel knocked up before she wins Miss Universe, no more Mrs. Nice Stage Mom, this friendship is over."

Throwing her head back, Michelle laughs. "You're just as bad as the boys."

"Hey, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Am I right?" Sheila playfully bumps her hip against Michelle's before the two are called over to say goodbye to their tots for the afternoon.

At the time, when everything had been so light and innocent, none of them could have predicted how this little productive babysitting service would launch the careers of two elite gymnasts. Consequentially, none of them could have foreseen how everything would eventually fall apart.

**-BB-**

_5 YEARS LATER_

"I don't know about this, Don."

"Michelle, don't worry, amore mio," her husband says soothingly. He goes around the room, packing, while his wife, a look of apprehension on her beautiful, pale face, scans over the letter their son wrote to Santa.

When Don stubs his toe and makes a big fuss over it, dramatically dropping what he's doing, swearing and hopping on one foot, Michelle laughs, amused. "Donovan, you can be such a drama queen." She sits up on her knees, fully turned towards her husband. "And why do you even bother pretending you're in touch with your roots? The only reason you know any Italian is because you took it in college to lure in naïve undergrads at frat parties. You haven't even been to Italy."

"No, but maybe we can go one summer. Only, when Nicky is a little older so he can really appreciate where he's from and not beg me to carry him," Don suggests. He walks over to his wife and sits next to her, wrapping her up in his arms. "You can meet generations of Russos. We can visit my family's vineyard out in the country, taste wines with names we can't even begin to pronounce, explore the cities, sip espresso, eat pizza on the street and get sucked into tourist traps made for rich, clueless Americans like us."

Michelle hums at the beautiful picture he paints in her head. "As amazing as that sounds, if we commit to this gymnastics phase of his, we won't be able to take vacations anymore. He's going to be in a gym for six days out of the week. What kind of childhood is that, Don? He's going to need to be homeschooled—"

"Good thing his mother is an exceptional teacher."

"I give piano lessons."

"Exactly!" he shouts enthusiastically. "Math, English, History and Science can't be that much harder."

"Don."

"I was talking to Leland at the gym the other day, when Nicky was getting his things together," Don says. "He was telling me that Nicky has an extraordinary work ethic for someone so young. Not to mention the obvious talent and potential. If we start now with private training full-time, Nicky has what it takes to make it to the Olympics, as early as 2012."

Still skeptical, Michelle stares up at him, right into his eyes, weary of that cursed overconfident smirk that apparently runs in the Russo blood. "Don, they probably say that to all the parents, trying to get as much money out of us as they possibly can."

"I refuse to believe that. Now, I don't know much about this gymnastics stuff, but I've seen my son practice. He's got a gift and we should encourage him to use it," Don argues. "Rich and Sheila have been doing the same thing with Kelly so it isn't like we're going at it alone. They've already got her set up in Denver. Sheila even offered to put in a word to get Nicky into a program there, but I told her if we're moving to Colorado specifically for gymnastics, we're training with the best and that's Marty Walsh. The Rock in Boulder."

"Wait," Michelle says. "When did we even consider moving? And why are you even listening to Sheila about this? Sheila is crazy! She's been entering Kelly in beauty pageants since she was eighteen months old. I love her, I do, but that woman is out of her mind."

"Mich, weren't you the one who said, no matter what, even if he didn't want to be a world-class surgeon or the next Van Cliburn, we'd still do everything in our power to help our boy reach his dreams? And it looks like his dream is to make it to the Olympics. With a dream that massive, the earlier we get a move on it the better."

"He's seven, Donovan," Michelle says. She only ever uses his full name combined with her angry voice when she demands to be taken seriously. "There are fun, whimsy dreams you want when you're seven and then there are serious future dreams you decide when you're a little older. How is a seven-year-old supposed to be making important life decisions like this?"

Don chuckles. "Honey, have you met your son? _Whimsy_ isn't a word I'd use to describe Nicky _ever_. Focused. Practical. Sometimes I'm convinced he's a little old man trapped in a child body! He likes puzzles and math and writing worksheets more than toy cars and trains. By twelve, I bet he'll be doing our taxes."

"Don, I'm serious. Quit joking about our son," she scolds. With the biggest grin, Don leans over and gently kisses his wife, the same way he would when they were young and just falling in love. Neither of them has to say more because they both know it's true.

"Mom! Mom, help!" seven-year-old Nicky shouts, walking out of his room with scotch tape tangled all around his fingers. Michelle smiles the way she always does when her son inevitably gets into trouble without ever meaning to.

"Nicky Russo, what is the meaning of this?" Don says with mock anger, scooting to the side on the couch, making a gap between him and Michelle. Nicky takes the cue, hops over and fills the space between them. "'Kay, son, surprise family meeting time."

"First order of business," Michelle says. "What happened to you?"

"I was trying to wrap Kelly's Christmas present," Nicky says. "It isn't going good."

"Oh, we can tell," Michelle assures him. As she helps unwind the tape around Nicky's fingers, she explains to Don, "We were walking home the other day and he saw this necklace with a little star pendant in the store window. He stops me, says, _that's for Kelly_ and the next thing I know we're in there and I'm paying for it."

Don playfully scoffs. "Jesus, son. You're already buying jewelry for girls? Starting him a little early, aren't we, Mich?"

"It's not for a girl, dad. It's for _Kelly_," Nicky argues, a little embarrassed even if he doesn't know why. "I don't know how I got all stuck in it. It's the tape's fault."

"The tape's fault, huh? See what happens when you want to do everyone all on your own," Michelle scolds, finally freeing him from the tape and crumpling it up into a ball. "Alright, I'll help you wrap Kelly's gift, but first we need to talk about our second order of business. This gymnastics thing…"

Nicky's eyes widen, suspense moving him to sit straight up and look between his parents, half in excitement and half in doubt. "Does this mean I can train full-time? Please say yes, mom. Dad's already on board."

"And then some," she says, shooting her husband a look as he innocently grins. "Is this what you really want, Nicky? You know that if you go into gymnastics full-time, we're going to have to pull you out of school, but that doesn't mean you can neglect your studies. If anything, I'm going to expect even more from you. And it isn't going to be easy and no matter how much you cry or beg we aren't letting you quit. You're sure you want this?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well then, I guess we have our answer, but there is no way either of you are convincing me to move to Colorado. Not even kicking and screaming," Michelle says. Nicky jumps to hug his mom and chants his thanks. Michelle smiles, near tears and hugs him right back. "Okay, okay, family meeting adjourn. Let's go wrap that present for your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend! She's Kelly!" Nicky shouts, huffing and scrunching his face in annoyance. Don and Michelle just laugh. After all, that was their main reason for having a child—twenty-four/seven entertainment.

**-BB-**

_2 YEARS LATER_

Early on, Kelly Parker stumbles upon the realization that her parents aren't as perfect as they pretend to be.

"I can't believe you, Sheila! How dare you make such a big decision without me!"

"Well, what do you expect me to do, Richard? Play the dutiful wife, who doesn't have a say in anything other than agreeing to whatever her husband wants? Oh, I guess I should have told the sponsors I need my husband's permission to make decisions for our daughter's career? Fat chance. This is a business and I made a business call for the good of her future."

"A business? She's our daughter!" Richard yells. Something smacks against the floor, loud, with force, and Kelly literally jumps, nearly out of her skin. She sits at the top of the stairs with her little hands on the banister, listening to her parents in another one of their arguments downstairs. "She's nine-years-old. And you just gave away her NCAA eligibility? That's college, Sheila. That _is_ her future."

"Richard, you're overreacting. If she keeps it up, dominating and working her way up the ranks, and KPE gets as big as I know it will then by the time she retires she'll have the pick of schools, Ivy League even, where ever she wants to go. It'll be fine, dear. Now, relax."

"KPE?"

"Kelly Parker Enterprise," she answers. "Really, Rich, keep up."

"Sheila." He sighs, clearly frustrated. "Don't you think this is all getting a little out of hand? She's just a kid. At the rate we're going, she'll end up hating gymnastics and hating us for putting her through this. She should be out, playing, making friends, being a normal little girl."

"Love it or hate it, she's a prodigy, Richard. Nine-years-old and already crushing all the other girls in her division, just like she did in the pageants. I don't even know why I bothered with those silly things. The real money is in gymnastics. She's even better than some of the elite girls I've seen. Her talent is getting her noticed and it would be stupid not to monopolize on this."

"This is too much," he says. "I've put up with a lot of your crap, Sheila. I said nothing when you started putting make up and those weird fake eyelashes on our child, all the money we've spent on professional pictures and glitz dresses and those creepy wigs, all the designer leotards and, God, that damn spray tan. What was the point of the spray tan? She's biracial. It isn't even necessary! She's got a natural tan."

"Exactly," Sheila says. "I was sure to mention that, got a good deal from Express Tan that way."

"You're honestly insane," Richard says. And means it.

"Wow, this is certainly bold of you, thinking you have a say in the matter." Kelly knows that tone from her mother, the slinky way her words draw out, leaking poison, ready to go in for the kill. Kelly wants to run down there, intervene, save her father from whatever trap he's about to walk right into, but she can't. She's frozen there on the stairs.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he hisses. "I'm her father. I have a say in every matter that concerns her."

"Where were you when this NCAA eligibility bubble came up, huh? When's the last time you've seen Kelly compete? I'm here for her every day, in the gym and at home, while you're off, giving housewives face lifts and tummy tucks. So maybe when you stop screwing your intern long enough to learn what a Shaposhnikova on the uneven bars is then _maybe_ I'll consider your opinion, but until then, I'm Kelly's manager and her mother and you will stay out of it."

A long silence follows. It spells out victor for the lady of the house.

Finally, Richard scowls and Kelly takes a breath for the first time in the last several seconds. "It's a good thing Don and Michelle are visiting. Maybe they can talk some sense into you."

"You will not mention any of this in front of our friends," Sheila orders. "They're coming here on a vacation and I will not stand by and watch you drag them into this. This is between our family."

"Really, Sheila? Is that what we are? A family?"

Kelly's eyes water at her father's broken tone, the way he can barely get the words out.

When Sheila makes no attempt to reply, Richard huffs loudly, with so much defeat it hurts. "Whatever you say, darling. Now, Kelly and I are going to head out to the airport."

"Their plane doesn't get in for another hour."

"Maybe there was a headwind and they got in earlier. Maybe there's traffic. I don't know, Sheila. It's better to be early than stand around here, arguing with you," Richard says, a snap to his voice. That's something she gets from both her parents—the will to always fight back. "Kelly!" he suddenly shouts. "Kelly, let's go!"

She hurries down the stairs quicker than she probably should have, making it a little obvious that she hadn't been far during the argument. Though her parents are locked in a vicious stare, once Kelly reaches the bottom step, her father offers her a smile and his hand. Kelly immediately takes it even though she knows her mother doesn't approve. She can feel it. She feels it all the time and she's only nine.

"Ready to go see Nicky?" Richard asks softly. Kelly nods her head, hand locked with that of her father. He holds on to her just as tightly.

"No detours, Rich," Sheila says tightly. "Chef prepared a special meal for this evening. Dinner should be on the table by the time you get back and I expect you to be on time so it doesn't get cold."

Richard doesn't even respond, just hurries Kelly out the door and into his car, waving a hand behind his head before Sheila starts another argument and makes a case about feeling disrespected. Before meeting up with the Russos, Richard drives Kelly to the nearest ice cream parlor. She tries to refuse, saying mom won't be happy if she indulges before dinner or at all. It only seems to fuel Richard's fire and he orders the biggest ice cream sundae available.

"Go head. I won't tell your mom." Richard takes the plastic spoon and dips into the ice cream, bringing a scoop to his mouth. Kelly hesitates for a second or two before she grabs her own spoon and digs in. Richard smiles when his daughter starts giggling at him. "What's so funny?"

"Dad, you have ice cream on your mustache."

Kelly reaches over for a napkin and hands it to him. He thanks her and wipes it away.

"So, could you hear mom and dad fighting?" Richard asks. Kelly immediately looks away. Clearly, that's a yes. Sheila does that all the time. "Kelly, every once in a while, people disagree about things. Just because we argue doesn't mean I don't love your mother. I do. I love her and I love you. I know I work a lot and I wish that wasn't true…"

"S'okay, dad," Kelly says with ice cream smeared across her lips. "You're making the world a more beautiful place."

"Exactly." He takes another bite and loudly smacks his lips. "So, what's a Shap-o-sh-niko…va?"

Kelly laughs, calls him silly and Richard smiles, grabbing another napkin to wipe her face.

…

Barely able to contain his excitement, Nicky stares out at the snow-capped mountains serving as the backdrop to the Rocky Mountain Gymnastics Training Center. His mom grumbled earlier when Nicky tried to roll down the window to get a better view so he has to resort to a nose pressed up against the glass.

"I can't believe you," Michelle complains. "I thought nothing of it when we went to check out the hospital here and I thought it was merely coincidence how Dr. Haynes mentioned an opening position in Ortho. But _this_. I see what you're doing, Donnie, and I don't like it. I just want to make it clear to both you boys that we are _not_ moving here and that's final."

Turning into the Rock parking lot, Don laughs. "Relax, woman. We're just window shopping."

Don parks the borrowed Parker SUV in one of the visitor spaces and Nicky is practically bouncing up and down, giddy with fervor. He pops the door before Don can even shut off the engine and his mom shouts after him to button his coat. Nicky tries his hardest not to run ahead while Don rounds his arm around his wife, teasing about how fresh the air is and how he's always liked nature.

Walking into the Rock, there's this energy Nicky never felt at his gym in New York. The sounds and the smells and the sight are all similar yet different at the same time. His hands itch for chalk and his body craves movement. His young mind can't comprehend it, but he does feel it. The Rock calls to him.

"You must be Nicky Russo."

Turning and staring up, Nicky finds his idol, with the florescent lighting all around him. Nicky remembers seeing Marty on TV, anxious every time he was up. Marty was near flawless as a gymnast and he's only ever heard great things about him as a coach. Nicky opens his mouth, but he doesn't know what to say. What do you say to one of the greatest gymnasts in the U.S.?

"Good to finally meet." Marty holds out his hand and Nicky wipes his clammy palm against his coat before shaking it. Marty then goes to greet his parents, immediately taking note of Michelle's less than cheery state. "I've looked over the footage you sent me and the results from Nicky's last meet. You have one talented gymnast on your hands. I'm sure Nicky would fit in just fine here."

Michelle's head whips in Don's direction. "_Footage_?"

"It's a requirement to qualify for possibly placement here at the Rock," Marty says, a little confusedly. He can tell he's stepping on toes and Nicky wishes he could assure him that it isn't a big deal, that his mom doesn't hold grudges (especially when his dad starts it) but Nicky still hasn't figured out a way to form words.

"When we spoke on the phone the other day, I mentioned that we're from New York and we were coincidentally in town and wanted to see the best the country has to offer. I hear that's the Rock," Don explains, using the voice that comes out when he bargains with the butcher down the street from their townhouse.

"Well, you heard right. I assure you that you wouldn't be the first family relocating for the sake of gymnastics. A good percentage of our gymnasts have moved to Boulder just for the opportunity to train here," Marty says. He nods across the gym, shifting their focus to a young blonde on beam. "Take her for example, Payson Keeler. Her and her entire family moved here from Minnesota when she was six. Now we can't ever get her out of the gym."

"She's incredible." Michelle literally gasps when the young blonde in a purple leo does a perfect front aerial walkover. "Gorgeous."

"I don't think Parks can even do that and she's the best gymnast I know," Nicky murmurs, mesmerized.

"Our other option is Denver Elite," Don says, having fun with this. Meanwhile, his wife looks deeply annoyed, but says nothing. "Nicky's best friend trains there, Kelly Parker."

"Hmm. Yeah, I've heard the name." Marty nods. "But I've also heard Kelly Parker is all natural talent and determination rather than actual direction and coaching. Here at the Rock, we take raw talent and we do something with it. That's a Rock guarantee."

The adult chatter means nothing to Nicky. He's more interested in the Rock fishbowl, particularly two little girls looking at him from over by the water cooler. The first a caramel-skin brunette in a pink leo and the other a blonde in a sparkly lime green one. They're looking at him like an animal new to their zoo and all Nicky thinks about is how glad he is he isn't a girl and doesn't have to wear one of those things.

"Hi," one of the girls says. Just to be polite like his mom always taught him, Nicky lifts his hand in a lazy wave. They apparently take it as a cue and start to walk towards him. "Are you new here?" asks the blonde.

"Just looking around," Nicky replies.

"The Rock is great," the brunette says with a bubbly hop to her step. "I've been training here since I started tumbling."

"You should train here too," the blonde boldly suggests. "We could always use more cute boys."

The brunette groans. "_Lo_."

"What?"

"Lauren! Kaylie!" Marty suddenly shouts. The two girls instantly straighten when the head coach of the gym addresses them. "It's nice of you girls to make our new company feel welcomed, but don't you have routines to work on?"

Lauren quickly scurries away, but then turns back and reaches for the other girl's hand. As she's being dragged away, Kaylie offers Nicky a smile and a little lazy wave of her own. The way the girls giggle as they run off makes Nicky squirm, feeling nervous, but in a different way than when he first met Marty.

"My son, a natural girl magnet, huh? Stop it before I tell Kelly on you," Don whispers teasingly. Nicky glares at his father and tries to push him away, making Don laugh loudly. "Heads up, your mom isn't too happy about our little sneak attack. She isn't feeling well, went to go wait for us in the viewing room. What do you think so far?"

"I like it," Nicky says. "But no way is mom on board for this one."

"We can dream, can't we?" Don sighs loudly, taking a look around. "C'mon. Marty wants to give us the tour."

Nicky almost doesn't want a tour, but it wouldn't be polite to refuse. It makes him a little sad, seeing everything he could have, but knowing he won't ever. The one thing more important to him than gymnastics is his family and he respects his mom's wishes. At the end of the tour, when Don politely declines Marty's offer, Nicky just convinces himself that he'd miss NYC too much and, plus, Kelly would be _pissed_.

…

"So, did you like the Rock?"

Nicky doesn't answer and Kelly would glare at him, but can't bring herself to look away from her reflection in the mirror. With the Russos living in New York and the Parkers in Denver, the two families only see each other once a year, twice if they're lucky. Despite how they both annoy each other to no end, they are friends. The mark of a good friendship is no matter how much time goes by between them hanging out or how different they may seem, when they do meet up they just pick up where they left off.

"Nick! Answer me!"

"It was okay," Nicky replies. "Doesn't matter. My mom doesn't want to move here so…" Flopping down onto Kelly's bed, Nicky searches his brain for something else to talk about. The Rock is a pipe dream. It's best to let it go and not stress over the impossible. "She still isn't feeling good. I don't think she's coming to dinner tonight."

"But it's my birthday dinner." Kelly pouts at Nicky from over her shoulder before her attention turns back to the full-length mirror in her room. She runs her hands down the front of the dress she's wearing and then spins in a circles, stopping to fully face her childhood friend. Nicky is sprawled across the violet sheets of her bed with his head hanging off the edge, looking at her upside down. "Nick, tell me my dress is pretty."

Robotically, Nicky says, "Your dress is pretty."

"You're such a girl," Kelly teases. Nicky groans because, yeah, he walked right into that one and knows it. Kelly hums a song to herself as she skips to the door, but then notices Nicky's immobility. She stops, gives him a glare (she learned from her parents) crosses her arms, and stomps her foot against the carpet. "Nick, come on! It's time for my grand entrance!"

"Don't wanna," he grumbles, turning over and pressing his face into his forearm. "Go yourself."

"No! Every lady needs an escort to stand next to her and make her look good! Now, c'mon, slowpoke!" she shouts. Nicky groggily rolls off the bed, smoothing down the wrinkles in the dumb outfit his mom picked for him to wear. The sleeves of his white button-down shirt feel too long and his pants feel too short, showing his racecar socks. He tries to walk past her, but Kelly tugs on his arm to stop him. "Where's your bow-tie?"

He shakes his head. "No. I hate it."

"You need it! It makes you look like a man and not a little girl," she says, reaching for his hips and trying to search his pockets like it's a perfectly normal non-bubble-invading thing to do. Nicky pulls away from her with annoyance on his slightly rounded face.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks, alarmed.

"I know you have it! Put it on!"

"No!"

"Nick, if you don't then I'll tell your mom the real reason the lamp in your hotel room broke last New Year's Eve," she says sharply. Kelly watches with a little thrill as the color drains from his face. He's so easy to manipulate and it never gets old.

"Kelly, haww." She tugs on his shirt again and Nicky finally pulls the blue and gray plaid bowtie from his pocket just like she knew. Kelly tries to take it and clip it on him herself, knowing he'd find some way to screw up something so simple, but Nicky irritably pulls away from her and does it himself. "You're evil, Kelly Parker."

"It's my birthday!" Kelly shouts enthusiastically. When she's satisfied with the way her escort looks, Kelly links her arm with his. "Today, I'm perfect. Tomorrow I go back to being evil."

"Fun," Nicky murmurs as he's half-dragged out the door.

The two walk down the long, main hallway when they pass the guest room, door left ajar, muffled voices heard from inside. Being Kelly, she drags him over, despite how Nicky stalls, certain they shouldn't. Eavesdropping is one of Kelly's favorite pastimes (it's the only way she ever knows what's going on in this house) and she drags Nicky into it, like she does with everything else.

"Sheila, maybe Richard has a point…"

"A point? What point is that? Elle, if my daughter is destined for greatness, who am I—_who is he—_to hold her back? You just need to see her compete live and then you'll understand. Richard too. God gave Kelly a gift and it'd be wrong to deny her of it. It's something she should be showing off."

"But she's only nine…"

"Beethoven was seven and a half when he gave his first known, public performance. I don't need to tell you that. You're the music expert and all. Do you think his music would be as influential and withstand the test of time if, instead of teaching him how to play all day and all night, his father just let him go to play with the other little children? No."

"Sheila…"

"Michelle, think about it. Mozart is another. Pablo Picasso. Now, Kelly Parker."

Michelle laughs softly, weakly. "You do have big dreams. I'll give you that one. And Kelly's talent is undeniable. But I also think it's something that should be handled delicately, not something to destroy your marriage over."

Hearing that, Kelly's arm goes slack, falling away from Nicky's. He frowns, wordlessly taking her hand and holding it in his.

"Ha, Richard is doing a fine job of that all on his own," Sheila says bitterly. "He's screwing his intern, Michelle. Like a drastically less attractive low-budget version of Grey's Anatomy."

"No."

"Yes."

"She—"

"Let's not talk about that," Sheila says quickly. "How are you feeling?"

"Oww, I'm fine," Michelle says, trying too hard to sound convincing. "It was just a little dizzy spell. Low blood sugar. Maybe the altitude. Don is just overreacting. And Rich just agrees like always. I do not need a trip to the emergency room. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Either way, you stay away from my daughter. She can't afford to get sick. Neither can Nicky," Sheila says, caught between being playful and serious. "You should rest a bit before dinner…"

Despite Michelle's insistence that they talk a while longer, Sheila's skepticism is enough to leave Kelly anxious. The last thing they need is her mom walking out to find the two of them crouched near the crack in the door. Kelly takes the first step and yanks Nicky all the way back to her room, closing the door behind them.

"Screwing is like twisting or fastening something like a screw," Nicky says, being the snooty little know-it-all he is. "What does it mean that your dad is screwing his intern?"

"I don't know, but it must be bad. That's the second time my mom's said it and she sounded like she was going to rip off someone's head both times," Kelly says with a heavy sigh. There's a pained look on her face as she sits at the foot of her bed and Nicky notices, sitting close beside her. "Mom and dad fight a lot. I hate it. Something's wrong, but they don't want to tell me."

"I know how that feels," Nicky agrees, taking her hand. It isn't a big, meaningful gesture with them. It's just something they do. Kelly leans towards him a little more with each second that passes until her head rests against his shoulder and Nicky leans into her too.

A week later, when one of the older girls at Denver Elite defines "screwing" for her, Kelly locks herself in her room, calls Nicky and cries her eyes out. Naturally, Nicky doesn't know what to say to her, but he doesn't hang up, not even when she cries herself to sleep.

…

Though they've known each other all their lives, theirs isn't the typical childhood soul mates cliché. They don't live next door to each other. They've never made telephones out of string and cans. Living in different states, they're forced to press pause on their friendship and play whenever they're near. It's a shame because he really could have used her, especially when his mom's little random spells morphed into something the doctors could barely define.

At first, Kelly doesn't understand why everything changed so suddenly. After constant badgering, her mom finally pulls her aside and explains to her how Mrs. Russo is sick and it's a confusing time for Nicky, having to watch his mother go in and out of the hospital week after week, growing weaker with each visit. When her mom asks her if she understands, Kelly doesn't answer. She goes straight to her room and grabs her box of markers and crayons and pieces of paper. When the fighting starts downstairs, Kelly concentrates even harder on the drawing she's making.

"Your mom is a pain in my caboose." Richard groans, going into his daughter's room and crashing down onto her bed. "She wants to derail the entire train, I think. Then, knowing Sheila, set it on fire and rig the tracks with dynamite too."

"I think she's just scared and sad." Lying on her belly on the carpet, a crayon in hand, Kelly continues what she's doing. Richard looks over the side of the bed, curious. Feeling his questioning stare, Kelly says, "Mom talked to Nicky's mom on the phone yesterday and she started crying. Don't tell her I told you, though. She won't like it."

"Kelly Parker, your mom is a complicated woman. It's both the reason why I love her and why I hate her with a fiery burning passion," Richard says. He never bullshits with his daughter and she beams at him, happy to be treated like an equal and not an oblivious child for once. "Whatcha working on, sweetheart?"

"I'm making Mrs. Russo a get well soon card," she says, looking very serious about it. "And then when I'm done, I'm making one for Nick. You'll mail it to them for me, right?"

"Of course," Richard answers. "How thoughtful of you, Kelly."

"Dad, I'm not evil all the time," she says matter-of-factly. "And neither is mom."

He sighs loudly before sitting up. "Can I help?"

Kelly holds out a crayon to him and Richard goes to lying out on the floor next to her. He isn't very helpful with the way his phone goes off before he can start and he excuses himself, saying it's a work call. Kelly hates how lonely she feels, but just tells herself that it's because she's an only child and it's normal. And from the look of things, that won't be changing any time soon.

…

_10 MONTHS LATER_

The sky is so bright on the day of Michelle Russo's funeral that it almost seems unfair. As they lower the casket into the ground, Sheila loudly wails her breaking heart out while Nicky remains still and silent. Richard has one arm tight around his grieving wife while never leaving Don's side. Borrowing strength from her father, Kelly stands by Nicky's side in a dress that's equally as pretty as her birthday dress, but completely black. She doesn't let go of Nicky's hand, not once throughout the entire ceremony and Nicky never comments on it or thanks her, not once, but Kelly has her way of knowing that it's exactly what he needs.

…

Nicky doesn't want to cry, but he can't help it. His face scrunches until his eyes disappear and tears wet his lashes before spilling down his cheeks. He tries even harder not to make a sound. The apartment is too quiet without his mom there to drag her house slippers across the polished, wooden floors and laugh loudly, scolding Don for something or another and shouting for Nicky to beat up his dad for her. Without Michelle Russo, their home isn't a home. It's just a box housing two sad boys.

"Nicky! Son? Where are you?" His dad sounds different, strange even, and the strangeness only continues with the way he stumbles into the room, nearly tripping over his own two feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Get back here!"

Knowing he's in trouble, Nicky's entire body tenses. It's too late at night and the apartment is too dark for him to make out the details of his father's face, but it's clear he's pissed. Nicky carefully crawls back inside through the window, leaving his safe place, the old, iron fire escape, where he listens to the cars rush by, the occasional angry honking of a cab and the city sounds in general. He finds it a comfort and an escape from the empty apartment.

"You know the fire escape is off-limits! What did I say the last time? Nicky, you know better!"

"Dad, I'm okay," Nicky assures him. When Don moves towards him, reduced to an angry shadow in the dark, Nicky can smell the nasty stench on him—alcohol. "I'm sorry."

"What the hell were you doing out there?"

"I can't, dad," Nicky murmurs, feeling a fresh batch of tears ready to fall. "Everything in here reminds me of her…"

The brick wall of a man softens when he hears that and gets down so he's at eye level with Nicky. "Shh, S'okay, son. Don't cry. I'm, uh, I'm sorry I yelled. After your mother, I just can't lose you too, y'know?"

"Dad, I…I don't understand," Nicky cries. "Why her? Why my mom? Why not someone else's? Why mine?"

"Shh." Don collapses, his head thumping back against the wall and Nicky slowly slides down to sit beside his father. "Shh. It'll be okay. I know what you mean, though. Everything in here reminds me of her too, reminds me of what happened, what we lost. Your mother, Nicky, the love of my life, I swear. Just, the most incredible woman I've ever met. Without her…"

When Don starts to get choked up, tears and all, Nicky puts his hand on his father's arm to stop him and let him know he isn't alone. "What are we going to do, dad?"

"We can't keep doing this, for sure. With your mom going through treatment and everything, don't get me wrong, she fought like hell and I am damn proud of her and grateful for the time we had, but there's no denying this last year has been hard on all of us. Now, I've been thinking and a fresh start would do us both some good. I miss your mom too, bud, but if she saw how we are right now, how we've been this last month, she'd kick our butts." Nicky laughs a little, well, because it's true. "No. We just need to keep busy because we both have so much going for us, right? I have work and you have gymnastics and we're going to make her proud, aren't we?"

Nicky nods, taking a moment of silence to commit to his dream for himself and his mother.

"Good." Don kisses the top of his head and rubs a hand through Nicky's hair. "We're selling the apartment."

Nicky's eyes widen. "We're what?"

"We're moving to Boulder, Colorado."

**-BB-**

_1 YEAR LATER _

A lot changes following the loss of Michelle Russo.

Dinners between the Parkers and Russos become awkward and they can all feel something (someone) missing. The two families being on opposite sides of the grudging rivalry between the Rock and Denver Elite only seems to make things worse. Richard and Don find it absolutely absurd to let something they barely understand strain such a longstanding friendship, but Kelly's career has become Sheila's life ("I am President of the Parents Board, they depend on me"), so much so that everyone can feel the tension.

"So, Nicky," Sheila says over dinner, "what are the girls at the Rock like?"

Staring hard at his sweating glass of water, Nicky wishes he could have zoned out that question. He doesn't talk much, not in the gym and not outside. He's never been a social person to begin with, but after losing his mom, he doesn't seem to make the effort at all anymore. He just fades into the background when he isn't competing. "Okay, I guess."

"Okay?" Sheila loudly scowls.

"Nothing, but airheads," Kelly speaks up. "I bet Kaylie Cruz is so dumb she can't even tell the difference between a back hand spring and a standing full."

"Kelly," her father says warningly. Richard gives her this _look_, one he always gives her when he thinks she's acting too much like her mother. Sheila gives her a different look, one that says she shouldn't be afraid to speak her opinion and Kelly doesn't know how she's suppose to feel.

"What?" Kelly plasters on an innocent expression. "Mom said it first."

"And it's probably true," Sheila says quickly. "Kaylie Cruz is purely pedigree. Her father is a ball player and her mother is a washed-up has-been popstar. Even with her lack of actual skill, she still has poster child written all over her, which only means we have to work even harder to cover all of our bases. Isn't that right, Kelly?"

Sheila gives her an expectant look and Kelly nods promptly. Pull the string and the marionette dances.

"Can we not talk about gymnastics for once?" Don asks, sounding bored. Nicky lowers his head, remembering a time where his father had been so enthusiastic about his Olympic dream. That spirit seems to have died alongside his mother.

"May I be excused?" Nicky asks politely.

"Me too!" Kelly calls out.

"You kids go ahead," Richard tells them. Sparing the children from all the negative energy at the dinner table is the least he could do. "Watch TV or something, leave the adults to have our boring adult conversations."

The two gymnasts push back their seats and hurry out of the room.

"But only an hour of TV and no more, Kelly!" Sheila shouts after her. "That stuff'll rot your brain."

Kelly pauses in the doorway even when Nicky zooms right out and looks in her mom's direction almost like a puppy with an electric shock collar. "Okay, mom."

When Kelly walks towards the back of the house, out of parental earshot, in search of Nicky, he jumps out at her. Kelly doesn't scare easy, just stares him down with her hands on her hips. "Okay, mom," Nicky teasingly mimics her and Kelly roughly shoves him with her shoulder. "You do everything your mommy tells you to, don't you?"

Kelly fills with fire, a feeling that's common for her. She opens her mouth, about to say, _well, at least I have a mom_, but even a twelve-year-old Kelly knows that's too cruel. Instead, she just narrows her eyes and shoves him again. "You're a jerk, Nick."

Scratching the back of his head, he asks, "Why do you call me that?"

"B'cause you aren't cute enough to be a Nicky."

"Thanks," he says sarcastically. Nicky turns his back on her and walks through the kitchen to the glass sliding door. He leads her outside and it's a warm summer night. He crawls up onto the giant trampoline that Kelly got for her last birthday. It's common knowledge that Nicky has been crazy envious ever since her party (months ago), the last time they saw each other. Standing on the taut material, Nicky starts jumping up and down.

"Nick, stop! That's for serious training!"

"I bet your mommy said that to you too, huh?"

Kelly glares and digs her flats in the dirt. Yes, she did, but whatever.

"You're a jerk, Nicky Russo!" She screams it this time.

"What? You say something, Parks? I wasn't listening! I'm having too much fun!"

After looking around to make sure her mom isn't watching from the window, Kelly crawls up onto the trampoline with him, trying to find her balance. Nicky takes her hand to help steady her and they synchronize their jumping, laughing and smiling under a clear, starry night. Nicky flops and ends up on his back, laughing till his lungs burn and Kelly lies parallel to him, staring up at the stars. She runs her fingertips across the silver chain around her neck, rolling the star pendant between her fingers. Nicky gave it to her and she hardly ever takes it off.

"I'm going to be a star one day," Kelly tells him.

"I already am one," Nicky says confidently. He turns over onto his stomach and smiles at the scowl on her face. "Duh, I know you'll be one too. Why do you think I gave you that?"

Nicky touches the back of her hand that's been absent-mindedly playing with the star around her neck. Kelly doesn't know what to say to that. All she knows is that it's nice to see him smile, especially at her. It feels like it's been a while. Even if they only live less than an hour away, most times their schedules and lack of transportation keep them apart. This is only the second time she's seen him since his mom died and it's a nice improvement from how he shut her out completely and ignored her at her own birthday party.

Before Kelly even realizes it, Nicky leans up on his elbows and kisses her. He puckers his lips against hers and Kelly doesn't know what to do so she just imitates him. She doesn't really know what's going on, but she doesn't hate it either. When Nicky pulls away, he smirks like he just won a prize or something and Kelly goes with her first instinct—she slaps him across the face.

"Ouch! What was that for?" Nicky pouts, rubbing his cheek.

"You! Y—you!" Kelly shouts at him even though they're so close. She takes a deep breath and much more calmly, asks, "Why'd you do that for?"

Nicky shrugs. "Dunno. I just wanted to."

Trying to sound offended, Kelly demands, "And what if I didn't want you to?"

He gives her another big smile. She goes from finding it sweet and endearing to deeply annoying so fast. He leans in so close she thinks he might try it again, but then stops and whispers, "Fibbing is bad, Kelly Parker."

Kelly feels her face start to heat up, but she doesn't know why. She tells herself she shouldn't. Being Nicky, he just found a new way to be annoying. That's all this is. Before she can decide if she wants to try to do it again or kick the crap out of him, the glass door slides open and their two-person world is cut off. Don stands there, shouting that it's time they go home. Both kids also hear the familiar sound of Richard and Sheila arguing inside. They don't even try to hide it anymore.

"Bye, Parks," Nicky says, tapping her shoulder with a closed fist, a much more friend-classified gesture. He gives her another smile before sliding off the trampoline and going over to his dad, who says it's probably better if they sneak around the side of the house so they don't have to pass the arguing Parkers who've turned their dining room into a battle field.

After saying goodbye, Kelly remains on the trampoline for a while, staring up at the stars.

As surprising as it had been in the moment, the fact that Nicky Russo was her first kiss isn't very surprising at all.

**-BB-**

_3 YEARS LATER _

In the years after Michelle's death, Don and Nicky stop going to Aspen to celebrate New Year's Eve. Don works overtime and Nicky trains at the gym. Since the Rock respects holidays, Nicky usually resorts to sneaking in and practicing. It's unsupervised and dangerous, but a risk he's willing to take. Gymnastics is one of the few things that distract him from the fact that his house is the only one on the block without Christmas lights.

The year Kelly takes the National Champion title _and_ gold at Worlds, the Parkers look to celebrate big and figure the best way is to restart their holiday tradition. Don is mostly against it, saying the hospital needs him, especially this time of year, but Richard manages to convince him otherwise. Nicky doesn't like being too far from the Rock and he doesn't care for Kelly's inflated ego either (her taunting text messages are the worse), but if his dad is willing to try then Nicky is too.

Right after they check in, Don says he has to make a quick call (that lasts hours) to the hospital and shouldn't be disturbed. Nicky doesn't really care, setting his sights on the gym anyways. He pulls off his hoodie, only wearing a white t-shirt under and changes into a pair of basketball shorts and running shoes. Aspen does have facilities appropriate for gymnastics training, but are, like the Rock, closed due to the holidays. Being the exercise junkie he is, Nicky settles for the weight sets and machines in the hotel gym.

"I knew I'd find you here."

Carefully setting down the weights, Nicky turns around when that familiar voice teases his ears. Kelly Parker. The last time he saw her had been on TV from the comfort of his living room as he iced both his wrists. It's been even longer since he's seen her in person, some rich people gala months ago. Clearly, Kelly's grown up a bit, but every time she smiles, Nicky still feels like he's in the presence of that bossy little girl who he kissed for the first time on a trampoline.

"Hey," Nicky says. Suddenly conscious of how he's covered in sweat, Nicky grabs a nearby towel and wipes down his face as Kelly approaches. Immediately, he tells himself not to fall for her innocent act, but the real question at the front of his mind: _Damn. When did she get so pretty?_

Of course, Kelly Parker has always been pretty. She has an entire room of pageant crowns to prove it. New question: _Why is he noticing it even more now?_

Taking a seat at the exercise bench across from him, Kelly folds one leg over the other and distractedly plays with her dark hair, moving it all to fall over one shoulder. "Nick, you really don't know the meaning of _vacation_, do you?"

"Don't get cocky, Parks. Just because you're basically the best female gymnast in the country doesn't mean you can just drop your work ethic," he scolds. Kelly just giggles and Nicky goes over to sit next to her, tugging off the fingerless weight-lifting gloves on his hands.

"Maybe you got it right. I don't even know what our parents expect us to do here. We can't ski or snowboard because one injury and there goes what we've worked for our entire lives. We can't eat or drink anything with actual taste. We can't train for real."

"Hence, why I'm here."

Kelly's gaze drifts from his face to his hands folded in his lap. "How are your wrists?"

"Rested and good as new," Nicky says quickly. It nearly killed him to qualify for Nationals, but then be taken out last minute due to injury. Though he brooded about it for a good while, Nicky is done being pathetic and set his eyes on the future. "Next year, Nationals is mine. Then Worlds. Then eventually the Olympics."

"I look forward to wearing matching gold at every event," Kelly says with such confidence in him, but mostly in herself. She's still the same Kelly Parker. "By the way, I got you something. Here." She tosses the square expertly wrapped gift like she doesn't care if it falls, even though it's so neatly done she either excels at gift-wrapping, someone did it for her or she actually took the time to do it herself.

"You got me a Christmas present? I thought we were done with that when we were kids?"

"It isn't like I bought you your own private island," she says defensively. "Just shut up and open it before I take it back."

Without saying another word, Nicky tears through the wrapper and smiles when he finds the hard plastic case with a CD inside. As he turns it over in his hands to look at the set list handwritten on the back, Kelly goes off on a little rant about how the one thing they have in common is needing to be in their bubble before a competition and how music works for her, drowning out all else. She burnt him a CD of songs that work best for her. Kelly's sure to emphasize that this is her attempt to make him a less crappy gymnast. As she's saying all this, word vomit at its best, Nicky just smiles at her.

"Thanks." Raking his fingers over the top of his head, Nicky shyly turns away. "I don't have anything for you…"

"You bitch," Kelly says playfully. "Whatever. It's fine."

"Actually…" His voice trails off. "Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Because we're playing hide and seek," Nicky says sarcastically. "Just close your eyes."

Kelly does as she's told, but her eyelids flutter, on the verge of opening. Nicky already knows she hates the silence and the unknown, but he finds her inability to relax with her eyes closed new and interesting. It's as if a lack of sight, literally being in the dark, leaves her vulnerable, something else she hates. The single common thread between gymnasts might possibly be their constant need for control.

Her lips move like she's about to ask him what's going on when Nicky leans in and gently brushes his lips against hers. It's a little bit of a throwback to their first kiss, him initiating it, taking her by surprise, except this time, instead of slapping him across the face, Kelly brings her hand to the front of his hoodie and moves her lips against his. Though he had no intention to take it further than a cheeky little kiss, the way she reacts excites him. A kiss turns into kissing and kisses until they both really need to take a breath and have no choice but to pull away.

"Merry Christmas, Parks," he whispers against her mouth. His voice is low and deep as he says it. He skims her cheek with his thumb like he's seen his dad do to his mom maybe a million times in the past and there's something so amusing about the way she stares at him, stunned.

Knowing Kelly Parker, her first instinct should be to turn right around and be a snarky bitch to him, say something about how it doesn't count as a present if it doesn't come in wrapping paper and a bow, but she's so goddamn flustered (fucking cute) that when she opens her mouth, all Kelly manages to murmur is, "Thanks."

Nicky looks down between them, grinning like a freaking idiot. He knows it, but can't stop. "I thanked you for your gift to me, right? Because I thought to, but then I thought about my gift idea to you and, well…"

"Who could remember when you smothered me with your lips like that _again_," Kelly says, starting to regain her composure. There's the Kelly he knows, walls slowly moving back in place. "Yes, you did, but you also kind of upstaged my gift with yours, asshole."

"Just something winners do," he says. "I meant it though." Nicky takes a look at the mix again and it makes him feel a little weird, thinking about how much thought she put into it and how much she must have been thinking about him. "It always surprises me that you have good taste in music. I didn't think your mom would let you listen to this stuff."

"Why not?"

"She does run your house like a communist country."

"Shut the fuck up, Nick."

Thoroughly entertained in just the few minutes they've been reunited, Nicky grins. "C'mon, let's get out of here. I'm starving. My dad's locked up in the master bedroom, working, but we can hang out in our suite. I'm willing to bet your mom called ahead and put restrictions on what you can and can't order from room service."

"That's my mom," she sings miserably. Nicky leads the way out of the gym when Kelly casually mentions, "They're getting divorced, you know?"

Nicky raises both brows at her. "Really?"

"They won't say it, but I know that's where it's headed. It's stupid that they've dragged it out this long," Kelly explains as they walk out into the hall, towards the elevator. "Honestly, I don't blame him. Things have gone downhill ever since she became my manager. She knows best and she means well, but…I don't even know anymore."

With other girls, he's so aware of spatial distance, hyperaware even, but with Kelly, Nicky doesn't hesitate and reaches out to touch her shoulder, wordlessly assuring her she doesn't have to explain. He already knows. In response, Kelly gives him this little, gracious smile, but as soon as the elevator doors swoop open and people rush all around them, it disappears.

"So the girls at the Rock are super jealous of you," Nicky says. He knows just how much Kelly loves talking shit about the Rock girls, almost as much as the Rock girls enjoy talking shit about her.

At the mention of the girls from Boulder, Kelly laughs. "They should be. Which one are you dating again? Keeler, right, or is it the other blonde, the bitchier one? She ranked so low her name isn't even worth remembering."

"You know what I think about dating. It's a waste of time," Nicky says. "Plus, those two? Keeler's just one of the guys and Lauren Tanner…don't even get me started. Her and Princess Kaylie Cruz are fighting over the same gym douche. Someone needs to remind them the reason we're even at the Rock is to train."

"Don't. It's more fun when they're distracted. They won't know what hit them when I beat their ass _again_," Kelly says, excited at the very idea. When the elevator comes to a stop, they walk out onto his floor and down the line of doors. Staring down at the pattern of the carpet, Kelly purses her lips. "So, that present…"

Nicky chuckles. "I know. Half-assed. I'll make it up to you, buy you a real one."

"You don't have to buy me anything. My dad monopolizes on the whole buying my love thing," Kelly says flatly. "Actually, I didn't really mind…"

"Yeah?" Nicky smirks and Kelly quickly looks away, embarrassed. He swears she's blushing and it's cute. "Well, sucks for you that you only get presents for Christmas and your birthday."

Kelly rolls her eyes and Nicky chuckles. Though neither mentions it, both know that won't last long. Not long at all.

…

As gorgeous as Aspen is scenically, being serious athletes with strict restrictions, the novelty wears off fast. Sheila spends all her days at the spa and Richard actually gets Don away from his cell phone and out on the slopes. That leaves Nicky and Kelly to find ways to entertain themselves. Most times when they're bored, Nicky jokingly asks if she wants to mess around and Kelly will take him seriously and things turn awkward for maybe a second before she agrees, he stares at her, surprised, for another couple seconds and they end up making out.

"Does that, um, feel okay?" he asks nervously. They did away with his shirt a long time ago, leaving it somewhere on the floor, exposing his every chiseled muscle. They're situated on the couch in his hotel room, him leaning over her and his hands creeping under the thin material of her shirt.

"Yeah," Kelly says quietly.

With her eyes heavy and her heart pounding, she arches her back, an attempt to satisfy the deep-seated need to be closer to him. Her hands move to his sides, touching his smooth, marble skin, only to pull away with uncertainty. His face is buried in the crook of her neck, but he stops kissing her there long enough to move his lips to her ear. Nicky whispers that it's okay to touch him back and by the way he shifts so he can see her eyes, he obviously thinks it's cute she thinks she needs permission.

Adjusting himself against her, Nicky smiles at her. "Kel, are you blushing?"

"No," she quickly denies. "Shut up!"

"I think you are," he sings, amused by the red tint to her cheeks. Kelly grumbles and moves her hands to his chest, about to push him off and so he gently kisses her mouth, an apology for embarrassing her. Kelly sighs against his lips and hearing it makes Nicky groan. Her lips part, giving way to his tongue and they've only ever done this a few times and Kelly finds the whole thing kind of weird, but kind of nice too.

"Less tongue," Kelly murmurs when they pull apart. Nicky nods, makes a mental note for future notice and that's nice too, how he listens to her like that. He knows what not to do and he does what she likes without her even having to ask. It's a whole other level of knowing each other.

When he starts kissing down her neck, getting to her collarbone, Kelly slides her palm up Nicky's bicep, moving up into his hair. She runs her fingers across the short, neatly cut edges at the nape of his neck and then up to the top that's long and messy. Her fingers get tangled in his hair, gently tugging without realizing.

"Ouch," he murmurs against her skin when she accidentally pulls too hard.

Kelly laughs, rolling her hips beneath him, feeling every contour of his body touching hers. Honestly, the only way they could be closer is if he were in her. "You know you like that weird, kinky crap."

"What? No! I—"

"Who's blushing now?" she asks, giggling. "Jeez, Nick, I've seen sunburns less red than your face right now."

Nicky narrows his eyes and starts tickling her, making her squirm and shriek under him. Seeing her smile like that makes him beam back, looking so accomplished. He kisses her cheek, quick yet soft, and Kelly always makes this cute as hell sour look, her nose all crinkled when he does sweet little things for no reason other than because he wants to.

"You know, I think this is cool," Nicky says, combing strands of her hair away from her face. "That we can do this and not have to freak out about it because we're just friends. Things are just easy between us. I like that."

With how tightly they're pressed together, it's hard to hide the way she tenses when he says that. _Just friends_. Nicky's smile dims a little and he's about to ask what's wrong when Kelly coughs into her fist and starts to sit up. Naturally reacting, Nicky pulls away and when there's enough space between them, Kelly pulls her knees to her chest, completely severing the connection between them.

"Yeah, just friends," Kelly drawls, trying hard not to show too much of how she really feels. "It works because we don't have like, romantic feelings or whatever for each other so this is pretty much just practice for when we do...for other people, of course."

His entire demeanor does a nosedive, no trace of a smile left on his face. Sitting there, he almost looks hurt, which only makes Kelly want to physically hurt him. Seriously, what the fuck? He's the one who said it first! She was just agreeing with him.

"Yeah, practice."

Eyes smoldering, he stares at her and it leaves Kelly searching for some kind of exit from this awkward conversation. Nicky seems to have an idea, hooking his hands behind her knees and straightening her legs so he can move closer and kiss her hard. He kisses her like he's trying prove something to her and Kelly doesn't know what that is, but she kisses him back, willingly drowning in the intensity of it. It's confusing as hell, mixed signals being fired off with every touch. They inch closer and closer to that line they're yet to cross, teetering over when Kelly lays her hands over his, guiding him to the button of her shorts.

Then, the annoying, scarily loud hotel phone rings and startles Nicky away from her.

"Ignore it."

"It has to be one of the parents," Nicky guesses, moving to the other end of the couch, reaching for the phone. "If we don't answer then they're going to wonder what we're up to, come over here and see us like this."

"Well, why are we still talking about it? Answer the phone, Nick!" The though of her father seeing her like this right now, even worse, her mother, sends Kelly straight into panic mode. She anxiously watches Nicky pick up the receiver, put on his fake polite telephone voice that everyone has, and then looks around the floor for her bra.

She doesn't know why, but she feels the pull towards him every time he so much as smiles at her and either he feels it too or is doing it because he knows she'd let him get away with it, which would mean he's an even bigger jerk than she's thought all along. Kelly teases and calls him names all the time, but she knows he's just an upgraded, older and darker version of that little boy who turned red when he gave her the star necklace she's wearing. Something about knowing that is comforting.

When Kelly hears Nicky agree to meet up with the parents in twenty minutes downstairs, Kelly sluggishly drags herself off the couch and hunts for her bra. It came off around the same time they were kicking off their shoes and putting the Do Not Disturb sign out on the front door. After she finds it on the ground in the walkway, Kelly takes it to the bathroom where she freshens up her make up and tries to make her hair appear at least halfway decent. When she walks back out to the living room, Nicky is still shirtless, on the couch and with her phone.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" she asks.

"It was buzzing so I picked it up. A text from _Lobby Guy_. He wants to know if you're up for showing him some of your gymnastics moves in the hot tub tonight." If he's trying to not sound pissed, Nicky's shitty at it. "The fuck do you think _you_'re doing?"

Kelly stomps over and snaps her phone back. "What? He's just some guy I met in the lobby the first day here. He asked me about my World team jacket and maybe we were flirting a little and exchanged numbers. So what? It's not like I've been sneaking out to see him or something and I don't plan to either. You might have seen that I don't even reply to his texts. He's like, twenty-two or something. Can you imagine my mom's face if she knew?"

Accessing her texts, Kelly reads the message for herself and laughs. Clearly, Nicky is far less amused.

"Nick, cut it out," she says soothingly, carefully sitting in his lap and rounding her arms around his neck. "Like I said, I met him day one. Before I found you in the gym. I figured this vacation thing was going to be boring. I had to entertain myself somehow. How was I supposed to know we'd hook-up? Now, stop acting like a jealous boyfriend."

"I'm not your boyfriend."

"Exactly," she snaps. When she catches herself, Kelly sighs and presses her forehead to his neck, tightening her arms around him. She stays like that until he brings his hand up and rubs down her back.

"I still think dating is a waste of time," he murmurs. That's the truth.

"Me too," Kelly agrees. A half-truth at best. "But I have fun with you."

"Me too."

"Here." Kelly pulls up her contacts on her phone and deletes Lobby Guy. Then she goes and deletes every single text message from him until he's wiped clean from her phone. "Gone. Happy?" He doesn't respond, but she knows that's a yes. "Good. Now put your shirt on."

The last day of their vacation while Sheila checks out and Richard and Don load up the cars, Nicky and Kelly hang out in the lobby where she points out Lobby Guy. After less than a minute of eyeing him out, Nicky walks right over, tells him that Kelly's fifteen and demands he delete her number. The guy, clearly freaked the fuck out by the age difference and intimidated by Nicky's gymnast built, tells him to chill and deletes it right in front of them. Nicky calls it being protective, but Kelly knows he's jealous. It shouldn't make her a little happy, but it does.

…

They've dealt with each other's crushes before. Once, when they were younger, there was that boy Kelly was close to obsessed with. It bugged Nicky to no end, the way she'd talk about him and, of course, he was a gymnast and, of course, older and better than Nicky and Kelly never let him forget it. There was also Lobby Guy from Aspen and a number of giggly little girls who'd bat their eyes, but being Nicky Russo, he found any unasked for female attention daunting and weird.

The first time they see each other in a while and it's her father's birthday party. Kelly mostly got all dressed up because all her dad's rich country club friends are going to be there and her mom demanded it. If she's being honest, a little part of her, the part that got a little giddy every time he kissed her in the snow, had Nicky in mind when she was hell-bent on looking perfect. That's why it's such a bummer when Nicky gets to the party and he cannot shut up about Payson Keeler.

At first, Kelly thinks he's just doing it to be annoying and to psyche her out, because even Kelly has heard the talk about Payson Keeler rising in the ranks. But then there's that stupid, dreamy expression on Nicky's stupid boy face when he talks about the blonde and Kelly doesn't like it one bit.

"What's with the sudden obsession with Keeler?" she asks, with her back to him, because she doesn't know if she can do it face-to-face without completely losing it. Instead, Kelly stares at her reflection in the full-length mirror.

The dress she's wearing is elegant, black on black and suede on silk. She can never get tired of looking at it. Then Kelly catches Nicky's reflection, sitting on the edge of her bed a little behind her and he's dressed like a freaking streetwalker. She misses the days where his mom would pick out his clothes, bow-ties included. Now he's here in a ratty Rock hoodie, t-shirt and jeans, every article of clothing a size too big for him.

"Nick, hello, I thought you said she was practically one of the guys?" Kelly questions. Then again, she's heard him say something similar about her and with what happened in Aspen, there's obviously more to it than that.

"I don't know." Nicky shrugs, peering into the jewelry box on the nightstand and poking around in there. "Things change. She's incredible. I don't think I've ever met another girl like her."

Kelly chews on the inside of her cheek, clearly taking it personally. Can he not see what he's doing to her? What a fucking jerk.

"She's the female you." Kelly can't hide her disgust. She can't even try. "You said it yourself."

"Yeah, and?"

"Gee, Nick, I don't know. Don't you find it a little weird that you want to date you with boobs?" Kelly asks. She spins to face him; annoyed that he didn't compliment the way she looks tonight, not once. "Just remember, when you're touching her and kissing her, you're basically touching and kissing yourself…with boobs."

"So, you've noticed her boobs too, huh? Because typically gymnasts—"

"I should get back to the party." Her voice drops when she says it. She meant to sound cold, but somehow it came out dejected and sad. Plastering on a smile for people she doesn't care about is a lot easier than doing whatever this is with Nicky.

"No. The party's boring," he complains. "Can't we just hang out here?"

"And, what?" Kelly snaps at him. "You want to make out to pass the time?"

Nicky gives her a half-smile where his lips quirk to the side ever so slightly as he tilts his head towards her. He looks like a puppy hoping for a treat and she hates how she finds it cute. "Are you suggesting?" he asks.

"Screw you, Nick."

"Wait up. At least let me help you out."

Nicky walks up behind her and Kelly pauses in the doorway. She feels his fingers against her skin, carefully undoes the backing of the necklace she's wearing. He takes that one away and instead pulls a different one around her neck, clasping it for her in the back. Kelly looks down to find the star he bought her. She's had to replace the chain as she got older, but the pendant is the exact same one.

"Perfect," he says. "Kel, are you mad about something?"

"Are you seriously asking me that right now?"

"Yes…?"

Kelly wants to ignore what an ass he can be sometimes and link her arm with his and force him to be her escort. But something is different. Changed. Broken. She doesn't even say anything to him as she hurries out of her room and downstairs to where all the guests are mingling. She immediately finds her mother, surrounded by a group of people, laughing loudly, her chosen environment. Kelly slyly avoids crossing paths with her mom, instead searching for her father.

When Kelly doesn't see him anywhere, not in the sitting room or the living room or even the kitchen, she cuts through the study, a shortcut across the house, when she spots her father sitting at his desk in his favorite leather chair, looking out the window at the full moon. He appears very pensive and tense, not the way a birthday celebrant should be. Actually, his low energy level seems to match hers. They do say misery loves company.

"Hey, dad," Kelly says softly. They've been ushered in different directions, introduced to and made small talk with a variety of different people that they hardly got a chance to talk at all tonight.

"Hey, sweetie," Richard says, finally noticing his daughter in the room. He tries to smiles and she does her best to ignore how he had to try in the first place. "You look fantastic."

"At least someone noticed," Kelly murmurs under her breath, but loud enough to spark curiosity in her father. "Thanks, dad. I know. Mom has been out there all night, telling the entire party about how pretty I am. Lucky me." Kelly plays with the edge of her dress, swaying from side to side.

"You know you got that from my side of the family," he jokes. "You bet. Us Parkers, cursed with devastating good looks." Richard tries to come off as his normal self, but Kelly knows him a little better than that. She can tell how sad he is.

"You okay, dad?" Kelly asks. She walks closer towards him and pushes herself up to sit on the edge of his mahogany desk, finally kicking off her heels like she's been dying to do all night. "Are you upset Doc Russo didn't show?"

Richard chuckles, amused by her guess, and places his hand atop the back of Kelly's head, smoothing down her dark hair. "I wouldn't say I'm upset. I understand how things can be. I'm a surgeon too. Don is their go-to in Ortho, basically runs the department. He gets busy. That's good for him, finding comfort in fixing what's fixable. It was nice of Nicky to show up, though."

Kelly rolls her eyes. That oblivious idiot is the last thing she wants to talk about. She doesn't even want to think about him right now. "_Please_. The only reason he came is to show off his driver's license and the SUV his dad bought him."

Her dad gives her a knowing little smile that makes Kelly uneasy, curling her bare feet beneath the desk. "You must be excited," Richard continues. "It's been a while since you've seen Nicky."

"Not really. He won't shut up about some girl he likes at the Rock and did you see what he's wearing? Eww. He isn't allowed to stand next to me," Kelly says. "But it's always the same with Nick. We bicker. Whatever. I want to know why you're hiding out in here. It's your birthday."

"More of a reason to hide," he says. Richard spins in his chair a little, angles his head so for a good view of the moon outside. "You aren't stupid, Kelly. You know things haven't been good between your mother and me for a long time, but we always tried to make it work for the benefit of everyone, us as a family especially. But then I have these moments, where I just stop, look at myself, then look around me and wonder, what the hell am I doing."

"I think we all have those moments," Kelly says. She's always been open with her dad, well, about most things, so she tells him how it is. "If we're being honest, I expected mom and you to have gotten divorced a long time ago."

"And I expected Don to drop out of our lives a lot sooner than this. And I also expected Nicky and you to have dated and broken up and gotten back together at least twice already," Richard teases, and Kelly rolls her eyes. "Life is messy. It never goes how we expect. There. That fatherly advice will last you a lifetime."

"I'll remember it," Kelly says with the sort of delicateness she only ever shows around her father. "Are you sure you're okay, dad?"

"More than okay. Nothing to worry about, sweetheart."

Kelly holds her arms out and Richard gets up from his chair to hug her. Though Richard is a busy man, often going out of town for weeks, sometimes months at a time, Kelly doesn't mind too much, especially when they have little moments like this. It doesn't make up for what he's missing out on, but it always gives her reason never to give up on him.

Suddenly, the doors to the study burst open and their little hideaway on the outskirts of the party is compromised. "There you two are! Everyone's been asking about you! Get a move on it! We have another dozen pictures to take. Rich, straighten your tie and Kelly, freshen up that lipgloss, will you? It's almost time to sing Happy Birthday! Chop, chop!"

"She gets way too excited about all of this superficial crap," Kelly whispers to her dad.

Richard just guides her to the door and laughs a little. "Kelly Parker, listen to your mother."

…

"Dad, please."

"Nicky, we talked about this. I'm not comfortable with you taking more than three shots. The effects should last up to several weeks. If the injection wears off quickly or isn't helping anymore then taking another won't be worth it."

"You're such a hypocrite. You just wrote Kelly a new prescription."

"Yes, I wrote Kelly a prescription _for the first time in months_ because this one time her ankle is giving her problems and she came to me about it accompanied by her trainer. She has a professional who's been specifically trained in careful injection techniques to be administered in a professional setting. You, son, shoot up like a junkie in a bathroom stall at a gas station. There's a different. End of conversation. Now, I have to go to the hospital."

Nicky scowls. "Why am I not surprised?"

Don doesn't take another step towards the door. Instead, he cranes his neck and looks over his son. "Nicky…"

"Just go, dad. We all know that's where you'd rather be."

Nicky storms for the door, making his dramatic exit, and almost knocks Richard over in the process. "Whoa, there, kid," whistles Dr. Parker. "Damn, you're getting tall, aren't you? And in need of a haircut." Richard rounds his arm around Nicky in a headlock and it's the first time the gymnast has genuinely smiled in this house maybe ever.

"Richard," Don addresses his old friend, "what are you doing here?"

"Is he just about to leave for the hospital? Is that why he has his urgent, fidgety face on?" Richard asks Nicky, who confirms the question with a nod. "I know you have a busy schedule, Donnie, but could you spare a minute for a friend?"

"Alright, but make it quick."

"It's nice seeing you, Nicky." Richard gives him a pat on the arm as he leaves the office, closing the door a little after him. Nicky knows he's too old for this, but can't help himself and gets as close to the open door without being noticed. All the years of being around Kelly Parker certainly has rubbed off on him.

"What's this about, Rich?"

"God, Don, you look like a grumpy old man."

"You drove all this way just to tell me that? How nice."

"Drink?"

"Richard, it's six in the morning, but feel free to help yourself."

Despite Don's thick, obvious sarcasm Nicky hears the clinking of glasses. Richard took the self-administered invitation.

"What's going on, Rich? You don't look too good."

"Do you know how long it's taken me to fill out those damn divorce papers?" Richard asks. Nicky can't believe what he's hearing. All the times Kelly casually mentioned the possibility of her parents getting divorced, Nicky always brushed it off as her being paranoid. Apparently she had a right to be. "Right after Sheila just gave away Kelly's NCAA eligibility for _money_. Six years. I finally did it. We both did. Now there's a 90-day waiting period and poof, presto, I am Richard Parker and I am a divorcé."

"No kidding? I never actually thought you'd go through with it. My God. Have you told Kelly yet?"

"Not yet. She's already at the gym for the day. Sheila and I agreed to tell her together tonight," he explains. "Sheila wanted Kelly and for me to pay child support and that's it. She didn't want any of the property, didn't even argue with me about how to split up our possessions. Just sole custody of Kelly. That means no holidays with me, no summers, I don't get a say in any major decision-making that concerns her."

"You can't let that happen," Don argues. "Sheila will leach on and bleed her dry."

"Don't you think I know that?" Richard says angrily. "She was ready to take Kelly to go live in a fucking motel. A _motel_, Don. Motels are for crazy, alcohol-driven nights in Mexico or Vegas, not where a teenage girl, a friggin' future Olympian should be living. Sheila's that sure KPE is going to skyrocket with Nationals coming up again. I said to hell with it, I left them the house and everything in it, even the cars. All except my Benz and the Porsche, of course."

"So what are you getting out of this?"

"Sheila is giving up the Parker name? Thank God. Buboyan always suited her better anyways," Richard says. "Also, Sheila agreed to keep the details out of it. If I disappear, Sheila gave me her word Kelly won't ever have to know about all the interns and the mistresses and the business trips where I was vacationing with that woman from Neuro…"

Slumped against the wall outside the door, Nicky can just imagine his father's face. To Don, adultery is the ultimate sin. It's been years since he lost his wife and the poor bastard still won't look at another woman in any remotely romantic way. He even still wears his wedding band.

"Listen here, Donovan. You wipe that damn look off your face. I love my daughter more than anything. Not even because she's a gymnastics prodigy or whatever. Just sitting and having conversations with her, seeing her expression change, how she actually thinks over what she wants to say and usually comes up with things I wouldn't ever think of. I love that. That kid is everything to me. And the way she looks at me, like I can do no wrong, the minute she hears about everything I've done, it won't be the same. I won't do that to her."

"So you're giving up a future with your daughter to protect the past? Do you hear yourself? You aren't making any sense, Richie."

Dr. Parker laughs, his voice hoarse from the liquor and maybe even something else. If Nicky knows him like he thinks he does, it's straight-up scotch he's drinking and tears in his eyes, tangling his vocal chords. "I may be a doctor, but I never said I make smart decisions."

"Neither," Don grunts. "Pour me a glass."

Richard laughs again, louder and stronger this time. "No. You've got work to get to and a kid in the house. We aren't in college anymore, Russo. Those days are long gone."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Don says. "Remember, Sheila used to be fun back then."

"Goddamn," Rich says, voice filled to the brim with nostalgia. "You and me, holed up in the library on campus, going crazy, studying for the MCAT. In comes Sheila, snuck in pizza and box wine, admitting she couldn't cook or bake for shit, still can't, and teasing us about whatever party we were missing out on. I swear that's when I fell in love with her."

"If it wasn't for you dating Sheila, she never would have set me up with Michelle. Nicky might never have been born," Don muses. "Damn. That was a long time ago, wasn't it?"

"Indeed," Richard says. There's silence, then slurping, and he continues, "After the divorce is final, I'm thinking it's time I find a new start. I don't know where yet."

"I hear boob jobs and Botox are in high demand out west. I could picture you living by the beach."

"Overseas, I've been thinking. Maybe it's time I did some good."

"You know this is going to kill Kelly, right?" Don asks. "Not the fact that her parents are getting divorced, but the fact that her father is willingly opting out of her life."

"That's why Nicky is going to keep an eye on her, right, son?" Rich calls out. Nicky, still right outside, inwardly curses. Knowing he's caught, Nicky pushes the door open all the way and smiles nervously. "I remember when you were little, when Kelly wasn't forcing you to play house, you were forcing her to pretend you were ninjas. My advice? Stick to gymnastics."

"You want my input, sir?" Nicky asks politely. Sitting on the leather couch in front of his father's desk, Richard motions for Nicky to go on with the swish of his wrist, ice cubes clinking in his glass. Nicky knew it—scotch. "My dad's right. Kelly isn't going to be okay with this and I can try to play substitute, distract her or whatever, but I'm never going to be enough. You're her dad. Also, we kinda found out you were screwing your intern when we were nine. She knew and that's never put her off before."

"You knew what screwing was when you were nine?" Don asks.

"Wow, I wish I knew that earlier," Richard mutters. Just another regret to add to the list. "The papers are all signed and submitted to the Court. There's no way Sheila will agree to retract them. My hands are tied. And even if there was a way, I still have a few things to straighten out for myself. I can't be there for her and be a good father unless I make a few changes for me first. Kelly will be fine here."

"Sounds like an excuse," Nicky says sharply. "And a crappy one."

"Nicky," his father says warningly.

Richard holds out a hand, letting Don know it's okay, that Nicky's entitled to his opinion. "You're right," he says. "It is an excuse and it is a crappy one, but it's the truth. And, also, I really am confident that Kelly is going to be okay. I raised her strong. She wouldn't expect anything less from herself."

"How can you say that?" Nicky asks. "How can you just leave her like this?"

"Because," Richard says, shaking his shoulders. "She's got you, kid."

…

It sucks how you can expect something and do your best to prepare for it, but when it finally hits, drills home to where it hurts most, no amount of preparation can save you. That's how Kelly feels about her parents getting divorced. It's been a long time coming and she already knew when her parents wanted to talk after dinner, but it still broke her heart. Even Richard's eyes glazed over, especially when he explained his plan to move out and out of the country.

Warmth and emotion drained, left nothing more than a breathing corpse, Kelly thanked them for telling her and excused herself to her room. She cried for at least an hour, curled up beneath the sheets, chest heaving, barely taking the time to breath with her face pressed into a pillow to muffle the sound. She isn't so much upset that her parents are killing their marriage (honestly, it's been dead for years now), but that she's literally losing her dad because of it. Most of all, it scares her that love can die like that, long and drawn-out, with the slowest, most painful burn. Like a slow burning fire that destroys an entire forest.

Hours later, when it's dark out and her mom comes by at least three times, asking if she's alright (ignored, of course) Kelly's phone rings and she immediately leans towards the nightstand to grab it. Normally, she'd just ignore it, feeling like crap and all, but it's Nicky's personalized ring. She doesn't even think before checking the screen, finding a text from him.

_Unlock your window._

Her face crumples, confused, and she swings her legs over the edge of her bed, gazing over at the tall bay windows on the far side of her room. Kelly goes over and sees Nicky standing in her yard. He's still clueless about why she was so upset at him at her dad's birthday, but Kelly figures if she has to explain it to him then he isn't going to understand it anyways.

"Nick, what are you doing?" Kelly asks, adjusting her voice to be low enough her mom won't hear, but loud enough for Nicky.

"Hold on. I'm coming up."

Her gut wrenches, seeing him scale the side of the house. What kind of idiot spends his entire life training to be an Olympic gymnast and does something stupid like put himself in situations where he could end up in a body cast? Once he's right in front of her, Kelly digs her fingers into his shirt on instinct. She may not be able to stop him from actually falling, but she can try.

"What's wrong with you?" Kelly demands to know once Nicky crawls in through the window and safely plants his feet on the ground in her room. "If my mom catches you in here—"

"I heard about your parents," Nicky explains. "Actually, your dad is crashing at my house." Kelly turns away from him and makes her way back over to her bed, unsure if she really wants to hear this or not. "It's weird. My dad is working late tonight so earlier it was just yours and me in the house…and then he passed out on the couch."

"Fun," Kelly says dully. She sits back against the wooden headboard and crosses her legs beneath her, staring at the pattern of the comforter, running her fingers across the swirling shades of purple. "Thanks for the sympathy," she scowls, "but you need to get out."

Nicky sits beside her on her bed, frowning. "I didn't want you to be alone."

It pisses her off how sincere he sounds and how all she wants is for him to wrap his arms around her. That's all she's wanted since Aspen, now more than ever. Trapped in as much as her walls keep others out, Kelly could never tell him. Instead, she sneers, "And so you thought I'd want _you_?"

"Duh," Nicky says lightly, the way he does when he's being playful with her. He moves towards her and it makes Kelly's stomach flip until she sees him reach across her and turn out the lamp, leaving them in the dark. Nicky then lies out across her bed, pulling the sheets up over his shoulders. "Shh. It's late. Go to sleep, Parks. We can talk in the morning."

"I can't sleep. And I definitely don't want to talk about it."

"Well, what do you want to do instead?" he asks. Nicky runs his fingers up her arm, starting at her wrist, then slowly up her forearm, over the muscles buried beneath her skin, down and back up. Kelly isn't slow. She gets the suggestion loud and clear.

"Not that," Kelly says, swatting his hand away. He gives her that smile that's too effective at weakening her resolve and Kelly has to look across the room. "No. Not if you're like, picturing Payson when you're kissing me."

Nicky's smile fades and he sits up beside her. "What? Kelly, I've never done that. I wouldn't. That's messed up."

"But you like Payson." It's something she's struggled with ever since the birthday party, but she isn't disillusioned about it. She knows it to be fact. The way he looks when he talks about Payson, Nicky has never looked that way when talking about a girl, least of all Kelly.

"Yeah, sure. I like Payson. I also like gymnastics and low budget Sci-Fi movies," Nicky says, moving in a little closer to her. "But I _know_ you. I know you'll say you don't want me here, but you'll hate me leaving almost as much as I will. I'll set my alarm on my phone and be out of here before your mom even wakes up."

After taking a moment to weight her options in her head. "Okay. Fine. You can stay."

"Cool," Nicky says. "And for the record, Kel, when I'm kissing you all I think about is you."

Her heart does this strange fluttering thing and now there's absolutely no way he's leaving. With a deep breath, Kelly sinks down into bed with her head on the pillow. He lies down beside her and slides his hand over her hip and across her flat belly, holding her. He presses a kiss to her shoulder and Kelly presses her back to his chest.

"Did he tell you he's leaving the country?" Kelly asks quietly, pressing her hand over Nicky's. "Fixing up orphans in Africa. Literally making the world a more beautiful place."

"He doesn't want to leave."

"But he _is_ leaving." Her voice spikes, sounding whiny and Nicky shifts closer, his forehead pressed into her hair. "This is all my fault."

"Kelly, don't be ridiculous."

"Don't call me ridiculous," she snaps. "They were happy once. He didn't work so much and she was content being a housewife and then I came along and stupid gymnastics…"

"Hey, gymnastics isn't stupid," he scolds her. "You know you can't last a week away from the gym."

"That isn't the point. The point is if I was normal and talentless then maybe they'd still be together."

"Or maybe they'd just find other things to argue about and get divorced anyways," Nicky argues.

"Whatever." Kelly scoffs dismissively. It's just easier to blame herself than consider the alternative—they just fell out of love. "I can't let it get to me. Gift or curse, I still have gymnastics to focus on. Nationals is weeks away. You want to be my spy, Nick? I could use all the dirt on the Rock girls I can get. We fight it out on the mat, but it all starts with mental warfare."

Nicky groans reluctantly and tucks his head between her shoulders. "Lauren Tanner, bitch of the beam," he starts, "had sex with Kaylie Cruz's douche boyfriend, Carter something. It's spreading around the gym. Kaylie's the only one who doesn't know yet, but I'm sure it's just a matter of days now. And Payson…I've been supplying her with Cortisone…"

Kelly's eyes widen at that last part. Not so much the first, that's typical Rock drama. She turns onto her other side to face him and she can see the shame clear on Nicky's face. "What?" she asks, disbelieving.

"I was trying to get my dad to write me a new prescription and just pass it along to Payson, but I've already taken three this month so he wouldn't budge. I…I forged his signature and gave it to her."

"That bitch," Kelly says venomously. "Who does she think she is, making you do that for her? Don't you get it, Nick? She's playing you. She knows you'll do anything for her and she's using you."

"It isn't Payson," Nicky defends his current crush, not that Kelly expected any different. "Her parents aren't into it and I can get it so I offered. She doesn't even know I forged it. I was trying to play it cool. You know, to impress her."

Kelly grinds her teeth, pissed off, jealous, whatever. She shoves his hand off of her and sits up in bed, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around herself. With a frown, Nicky props himself up on his elbow, looking her over and trying to read what she's feeling.

"Kelly, don't be like this…"

"Do you want her to beat me?"

"It'd sure tone down your ego," Nicky jokes, though Kelly doesn't find it funny at all. "Kel, I'm kidding. I want to see her do good. I want to see all of us do good because we deserve it. She trains just as hard as you and I do."

"I don't think so, Nick," Kelly sneers. "Do you and Payson get drilled every night before you go to sleep because your mom nags and nags about how important it is to nail interviews and spend forever on hair and make up and knowing the enemy backwards and forwards? I don't think you're told your gymnastics isn't enough, that you have to be this fake, marketable person because our financial future depends on it. No, I didn't think so."

"Kelly," he whispers, reaching a hand out and resting his hand on her knee. "You're the best in the country. You're taking shots of Cortisone. If anything, I was evening the playing field. If you win, it'll be because you deserve it."

"You didn't answer my question. Do you want to see her beat me?"

Before Nicky can say anything in return, they hear footsteps creep down the hall, floorboards loudly creaking. In an instant, both of them panic. Nicky scrambles to get out of bed and ends up falling onto the floor. He pauses long enough to wince before crawling beneath Kelly's bed. She pulls back the sheets that spilled over the edge with Nicky and tries to be as composed as she possibly can when Sheila peeks in to ask whom she's talking to. It takes an entire five minutes, but Kelly convinces her that she's just hearing things and to go back to bed.

When Sheila finally leaves, closing the door behind her, Nicky crawls out from under Kelly's bed and they just trade smiles and try hard to resist the urge to laugh. When Nicky returns to her side, he focuses on her and never lets his eyes stray. "Maybe I'm open to it as a possibility, but no, I don't want to see her beat you. It goes without saying that you are going to kick ass at Nationals."

"Yeah, we both will."

It's frustrating how this always happens. He pisses her off and she convinces herself that she doesn't need him. Then he'll do something sweet and say exactly what she needs to hear and then she doesn't want him to leave her ever. As sick of it as she is, Kelly can't ever get away from him either. Instead of bringing it back up and fighting all over again, Kelly just says she's tried and wants to sleep. It's like the argument didn't even happen when she falls asleep and wakes up in his arms.

…

"Let's light them on fire."

"Kaylie Cruz and Austin Tucker?"

Kelly laughs. It's a nice sound to hear from her, especially when she's feeling even worse than Nicky is right now, dealing with her parent's divorce and her dad's relocation on top of the devastation they both felt at Nationals. "That's not a bad idea," Kelly says.

"Interesting. Typically pyromaniacs are male. Then again, with all your masculine energy—"

"Shut up, asshole."

The two friends are at a park near Denver Elite a week after getting back from Nationals, swinging back and forth on a playground swing set. When he swings back, Nicky stretches his legs and kicks off the sand, propelling him back further so he can shoot forward, faster and farther. Kelly goes at a much more mellow pace, swinging back just as Nicky flies forward. They don't look at each other. Both their eyes are on the matching silver medals partly buried in the sand in front of them. Nationals were a total fucking flop.

"How pissed is your mom?"

"Beyond," Kelly replies. "She's basically groveling at the feet of all my sponsors who are all ready to jump on Kaylie Cruz, National Champion, sparkling personality and perfect face. Barf. They're especially turned off by the whole condoms on the jumbotron disaster. Mom's pretty much freaking out now that dad isn't supporting her and I can't touch my trust fund until I'm eighteen."

"Talk about putting all of your eggs in one basket," Nicky mutters. He fights a smile at the memory of Kelly's face on that giant screen, jaw dropped, interviewer dude holding up the generic box and all. "Well, lucky for you, you don't have to sit next to Kaylie Cruz through a parade where at the end, the mayor is going to give her a key to the city and officially make it Kaylie Cruz Day."

"Aww, you get to ride next to her like a little prince with a little princess," Kelly teases. "Goss. As if I wasn't nauseas before." Kelly groans, dragging her heels through the sand until she comes to a complete stop.

Nicky hates how sad she is, but doesn't know what to do or say to change that. "Upside: Lauren Tanner and that Emily Kmetko girl are in the parade too. They're riding tail end, dressed like hokey fire fighters, tossing candy. The blackmailing blonde bitch was _not_ happy about it. You should have seen when she found out. Who knew karma could be so fun to watch?"

"Nice. I'll TiVo it."

"You know, you were incredible out there," Nicky says. Kelly rolls her eyes, dragging her fingers along the silver chains that hold up the swing. "Honest. That double front ½ dismount from the uneven bars—flawless. You know how the judging can be with these things. They must have been smoking something strong. Austin Tucker and Kaylie Cruz? If he isn't drunk then he's hung over and she drowns in her own drama."

"But they're pretty," Kelly murmurs. "They might as well be on Abercrombie shopping bags."

"Whatever," Nicky says dismissively. "_We_ could be Abercrombie worthy."

Kelly laughs softly at the forced conviction in his voice. "You're basically a robot and I'm a bitch."

"Batman and Robin eat your heart out."

Shaking her head, Kelly stands from the swing. "I should go. My mom probably wants to go over the new gameplan for the thousandth time."

Kelly bends to hook her fingers through the ribbons, lifting the two silver medals that'd been carelessly cast to the sand the second they got here. At the top of his swing, Nicky jumps off and sticks his landing in the sand. Kelly swats his arm, telling him he needs to be more careful before he irritates an old injury or strains something new. As he walks her to her car, teasing her over her concern for him, Nicky's cell phone goes off. He looks at it and then ignores it.

"Isn't it a little early for a bootycall?"

"I wouldn't know and it isn't even like that. You know I only get those calls from you," Nicky jokes. Kelly slaps his arm again before lacing hers through his and walking close. "My manager, actually. She has big plans for Kaylie and me, but from the sound of it, it's more about Kaylie and marketing me as her accessory boy. Sounds fun, huh? I don't know how you do it. I hate dealing with all this PR stuff. All I want to do is train."

"Just be happy you don't live with your manager. Hanging out with you is literally the only time I get away." Once they reach her car, Nicky wraps both his strong arms around her in a swaying hug. "By the way," Kelly whispers against his neck, "I'm Batman. You are Robin."

"No," Nicky argues. "_I_ am clearly Batman. You don't even know what it means to be Batman."

"Because I'm not as big a dork as you, Weirdo."

The hug doesn't end, compensating for the fact that he hasn't kissed her yet. Nicky doesn't think he's ever wanted to kiss her more. It's the strangest thing to him that in Aspen, all they ever did was kiss and fool around, but now that they're home, back to reality, their little practice run seems to have reached its expiration date. He isn't okay with that, but he isn't going to force her to do anything she doesn't want to, especially when she already has enough to deal with. All he knows is that no matter what other girls come into his life, Nicky's always going to be there for Kelly.

Not even because her dad asked him to, but because he wants to.

…

There's nothing like spending Valentine's Day…in the hospital…with your dad.

It has to be a record or something to strike out with two girls with so little time in between. First Payson rejects him in the afternoon and then Kaylie rejects him at night, in the same parking lot and on the same Godforsaken day. Nicky already knows if he tries Kelly, even just wanting to hang out, it'll end with her hanging up on him. She's already pissed he asked her for advice on what to get Payson as a present. It was just a question. That's what friends do, right? Whatever. If she wants to be a bitch then he'll let her, but she's going to do it alone.

As if the night couldn't get any worse, right when he's about to drive home, he gets a call from his dad at the hospital. Don's car broke down and he needs a ride home. So, on the most romantic day of the year, Nicky Russo wanders the sterile hallways of the local hospital, waiting for his dad to finish up a phone call. No matter, Nicky has a lot on his mind anyways and this gives him some time to sort it through.

He told Kaylie he was going to Denver. It was impulse. He said it before he even realized the words came out of his mouth, a Freudian slip of epic proportions. But the more he turns the idea over in his head, the more it sounds right. Marty and Kelly are at Denver Elite and they're all about business, less drama. Maybe that's the kind of focus he needs. Nowhere near Kaylie Cruz. While Payson reminded him of a butterfly with the grace she has on any given apparatus, Kaylie _gives him butterflies_, which is easily the scariest thing ever.

Lost in his thoughts, Nicky bumps into someone just as he turns the corner.

"Jesus, try looking where you're going next time!"

"I—Marty…?" Nicky blinks a few times, coming face to face with the man he looked up to as a kid, except now they're practically the same height. "Marty," Nicky says again, when he's a little more composed and tuned to reality. "Sorry about that. I wasn't paying attention."

"It's fine. No harm done," he responds. Nicky shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and starts to walk away, feeling how Marty is eyeing him and not knowing what to make of it. "What are you doing here at the hospital so late?"

"My dad needed a ride, but got caught up with something. Typical for doctors, I think. Now I'm just killing time till he's ready to go," Nicky explains. He's ready to ask what Marty's doing here, but he doesn't know if he should. That might be a little much for hallway small talk.

"I was just headed to the cafeteria," Marty says. "Walk with me. Let's talk about Nationals."

Nicky really doesn't want to. He wishes his phone would ring so he can make an excuse not to, but his life isn't a movie so convenient things like that don't happen. Hands still in his pockets, Nicky agrees. He manages to ease up a little, entertained by Marty's assessment of Austin Tucker ("Lucky punk is what that one is") and gives Nicky a little critique of his own performance. If it was anyone else, Nicky would be defensive, but with how long they've known each other, how Marty gave him his start, Nicky takes the advice to heart.

"You want anything?" Marty asks, motioning to the food bar while he's standing by the vending machines, watching the one with actual food spin. Nicky shakes his head, no, but Marty grunts. "Don't insult me, Russo. Coffee? You drink coffee, right? How do you take it?"

"Um, black."

"Same here."

While Marty takes a few sips, Nicky debates mentioning his earlier conversation with Kaylie or not. Nicky isn't the type who goes around looking for signs, but he can't exactly ignore when one stares him right in the face.

"I, um, I'm thinking of transferring to Denver Elite…"

"Huh. Really?"

"Yeah, there's this guy, I don't remember his name, but he's one of your recruiters and he's been leaving messages on my home phone, trying to get me to meet with him and train in Denver," Nicky says, anxiously drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. "I don't think they'll miss me over at the Rock anyways. They don't exactly name a day after the guy in second place."

"Hey, you keep your chin up. Silver at Nationals isn't anything to be ashamed of. Austin Tucker has been around a few times, even been to the Olympics already. You're young, just starting out. A stepping-stone is all it is. That's how I got to where I wanted to be. You will to."

"Thanks," Nicky says. "You know, even as a kid, I always had a hard time taking direction…"

Marty laughs like it's an understatement and Nicky smiles a little because maybe it is. "I remember Victor coming to me almost every other day, telling me that Russo kid wasn't listening to him like always."

"I only ever listen to the best and that was you. And after you left, I thought I could do it on my own. The trainers and everyone at the Rock are great, but I always thought I knew what I was doing, that I could go it alone and that was good enough. Then Nationals happened and now I'm starting to think maybe that isn't true."

"I'm not telling you to leave the Rock or anything, but I wouldn't hate training you again. You always reminded me of me when I first started out. Definitely something we'd have to work on," Marty says with a rough, tired laugh. "You know what they say. When the pieces don't fit, all we can do is pick up and move on, find what does."

It's a school of thought Don prescribes to, most notably moving to Colorado after Michelle passed away. Nicky is still unclear on whether that was a smart move or not. Sure, he's training at one of the best facilities in the country and he has Kelly, but it's almost like he lost both his parents too.

Just then, Don walks in through the cafeteria doors, shouting, "Nicky, there you are! I've called you three times! Why aren't you answering your phone? Why did I even buy you that thing if you don't answer it?" Not in his white lab coat for once, Don walks over and puts on a charming smile when he sees whom his son is sitting with. "Oh, Marty, this is a surprise."

"Hey doc," he says. Marty holds out his hand and Don gives it a firm shake. "I was just here, uh, seeing a friend, and I ran into your boy. He tells me he's thinking of coming over to train at Denver Elite."

"This is news to me," Don mutters confusedly.

"I've only been seriously considering it tonight," Nicky explains. "I was going to tell you earlier, but then you got pulled away."

"Well, I should probably go now. I'll leave you two to talk it over. Whatever you decide, we'd be happy to have you, Russo. No questions asked." Marty starts to stand from his seat, bringing his coffee with him. "It was nice running into you again. If you're as serious about this as you seem, call our office. I mean it when I say I wouldn't mind working with you again."

Marty gives him a nod and then shakes hands with Don a second time before leaving. Once the former gymnast is gone, Don fills the empty seat across from Nicky, stealing his cup of coffee without even asking and taking a sip. "So Denver Elite, huh?"

"Yeah," Nicky says with certainty. "I think it'll be a good fit."

…

"Nicky! It has been too long! Nicky Russo, how are you?"

Sheila beats Kelly to the door when the doorbell echoes through the house. From over her mom's shoulder, Kelly sees Nicky standing there on the welcome mat. Though he isn't afraid to express how much he hates it when Sheila treats Kelly like a workhorse, the woman has always been nice to him and she was his mother's best friend so Nicky regards her with respect. When Sheila smiles, Nicky smiles back. When she hugs him, he hugs her too.

Kelly remains in the far doorway, watching her mom and best friend making small talk from afar. Sheila beams and straightens the collar of Nicky's new, navy blue Denver Elite jacket that actually fits him because Kelly chose the size. Sheila then tugs at Nicky's cheek with her thumb and pointer, making Nicky bashfully turn away. Sheila always treats him like he's still that shy little kid and not some hormonal teenage boy, which is a good thing because otherwise, she might not let them hang out unsupervised.

"What a handsome, handsome young man you're turning out to be!" Sheila looks across the foyer to where Kelly leans in the doorway that leads to the living room. "Kelly, would you look at this face? How handsome is he?"

Kelly's eyes start at his freshly cut hair, down his lean body and to his dirty sneakers. "Meh. Kinda short."

"Like you're one to talk," Nicky shoots back, then turns his attention back to the woman standing in front of him. "My, uh, my dad sends his best."

"I'm sure he does," Sheila says flatly, but still with a wide smile. "So you finally gave up on the Rock and came to where the real winners train, huh? Smart boy. I don't know what those judges were thinking at Nationals. It should have been you and Kelly. Not that Kaylie Cruz and that sunglass hut slacker."

"My thoughts exactly, ma'am."

"Alright, it was good seeing you." Sheila lets her hands drop from Nicky's biceps and she goes to grab her purse on the nearby side table. "Kelly, I'm going out. Ellen Beals and I are going to casually run into a few of her NGO colleagues, doing what I do best. Don't wait up. Nicky, don't stay too long. You both need your rest."

"Okay, mom," Kelly says. "Have fun."

Sheila walks over to her daughter for air kisses on each cheek and she squeezes Nicky's arm before walking out the front door. Nicky waves, watching her go, but Kelly doesn't bother with any of that. Sheila is a ruthless, aggressive manager and can be a horrible person, but she also essentially is a person. Incredibly flawed, but with a sharp instinct to survive. That's why Kelly finds herself torn sometimes between what mother wants and what's right.

Once they're sure Sheila is gone, Kelly starts up the main staircase. "Kel, your mom is dating Ellen Beals."

"Shut up," Kelly says with a hint of anger, but overwhelming amusement in her voice. "My mom is not a lesbian and neither is Ellen Beals. _Please_. Do you see the way Beals looks at you and all the other boys when you're throwing tricks, shirtless? Someone should report her."

"You don't have to be all defensive," Nicky says. "My dad is dating his scrubs, which is arguably worse."

"True. At least my mom goes out now instead of stressing and screaming at people on the phone all the time," Kelly says. At the top of the stairs, she looks at Nicky from over her shoulder and reaches out a hand to trail down his DE jacket, fingers dancing along the teeth of the zipper. "It suites you, you know?"

Nicky lifts a shoulder in a lazy half-shrug. "Denver Elite's alright. It's cool getting to train with Marty again," Nicky says. He walks up until he's leveled with her, aware how close they are and how neither of them are moving away. "The only downside, having to see you _ever day_. Talk about a reoccurring nightmare."

"Nick, shut up."

Laughing, Nicky walks ahead of her, sure to make their arms graze as he walks by. She watches the way he turns back to look at her and smile. For Kelly, it's nice having Nicky around Denver Elite. At least there's one person in the gym that she doesn't have to be fake around. Also, he doesn't talk about Payson Keeler or Kaylie Cruz or the Rock in general at all anymore. She's starting to feel like how she always wanted things to be.

When she sees Nicky duck into one of the other rooms, Kelly shouts, "Nick, don't go in there!"

"God, this room gets creepier and creepier every time…"

Kelly follows Nicky into the room that's basically a giant Kelly Parker trophy case. The walls are lined with glass cases and shelves that hold every award and medal Kelly has ever won for gymnastics and every crown and sash she's ever gotten from the string of pageants she did as a child. Certificates, glossy photos and newspaper clippings are framed and hung on the wall.

"What?" Kelly dares him to say something. "I was adorable."

"Sure...we can call it that...I guess..."

"I was!" Kelly shouts, shoving Nicky with both hands. He smirks at her and carefully reaches for one of the crowns, lined with rhinestones and at least twelve-inches tall, setting it atop her head. "This is the Ultimate Supreme. So many girls were throwing tantrums when I won this. I'm sure it isn't hard to imagine all the other girls were afraid of me," Kelly says, sounding almost proud.

"You are so one of those mean girls, aren't you?" Nicky teases. "If we were normal high school kids, you'd be that bitchy girl who thinks she owns the school and has little worker bees to manipulate."

"And I'd be good at it too," Kelly says confidently. "Okay, if I'm the super hot, super popular school bitch then what would that make you?"

"The nobody. The loner. The hapless pile of loser-ism."

Kelly can't argue. Not that she thinks he's a hapless pile of loser-ism, but he is standoffish and antisocial, which would be a turnoff to the cool, popular clique. Not her, though. Kelly's sure she'd notice him. "So the fact that we're total opposites and we've hooked up would make us like, the biggest cliché ever, right?"

"No." Nicky actually laughs, turning back to face her. "The fact that we've been best friends since we were kids and hooked up makes us the biggest cliché ever."

Gently biting at the inside of her cheek with her teeth, Kelly nervously glances over at him. "I don't really mind…"

"Yeah, me neither."

A wave of warmth floods her whenever their stares linger and Kelly feels it right now. She tries to fight it down, distract herself, and looks in the nearby mirror, straightening the crown atop her head. A smile crosses her face as she turns to Nicky and says, "Nick, tell me my crown is pretty."

Chuckling, Nicky draws closer to her. "Kelly Parker, you are beautiful."

"That's not what I—"

"It's true," Nicky says, bringing his hand to stroke her cheek. "Crown or no crown."

He lifts his lips in a smile and Kelly lays her hand on his chest. Taking it as an invitation to make the next move, Nicky backs her up against one of the glass cases containing a row of gold medals. He holds her there and slants his mouth, bringing their lips together in a kiss, their first in a while. His tongue works against hers and she moans into his parted lips. Kelly has to holds on, fisting the front of his jacket when she feels her knees ready to buckle. When the crown slips and tumbles to the ground, Nicky pulls away, about to pick it up, but Kelly tells him to leave it and kiss her.

When inviting him over to hang out, Kelly didn't plan for this, but somehow they ended up here like they always end up here and neither of them complains. Neither complains when they completely bypass the home gym, where they thought to get a workout in, and instead end up in her bedroom for a completely different type of exercise. Not a single breathless protest is made as they leave a trail of clothes behind them.

"Are we really doing this?" Nicky questions, the one time they pull away. Kelly assumes it's a rhetorical one because his shirt is already lost somewhere and his shorts are unbuttoned and instead of even trying to answer that, she pushes at him, her fingers pressing hard into his unfairly perfect chest, backing him up towards her bed. "I mean, are you sure? Kel…"

"_Yes_, idiot," she hisses before kissing him again, hard. When he's sitting on the edge of her bed, hands grabbing for her, pulling her to him, Kelly inhales sharply and pushes her hair back with one hand. Her expression softens as she tries to catch her breath and whispers, "But it's sweet that you asked."

Kelly's stomach twists, the same way it does every time she feels vulnerable, partly because she can't believe she said that last part aloud and also because Nick, the prick, _smirks_ at her. She hates how, even after knowing each other for so long, he can still make her feel embarrassed and flustered without even saying anything. Kelly's ready to ream him for it when Nicky takes her by her hips and moves to lay her back on the bed. There's some awkward fumbling, which is to be expected, it being both their first time and all.

For maybe a second when there aren't any more clothes to be stripped off, Kelly freaks out a little. Her chest burns and her throat dries out. It's like her brain is five minutes behind, spazzing when it realizes where his hands are and what she's doing with her mouth. At one point, Kelly's ready to stop, push him off, but then he kisses her, _just_ kisses her, soft and simple, and then he murmurs something against her lips. Kelly can't make out what he says, but the way he makes her feel is too much to fight. He _knows _her. And she _trusts_ him.

When there's literally nothing between them (well, except latex), they lose coherence to sweat and lust, not once realizing the risk they've taken, betting their friendship and going all in.

…

Sometimes he realizes he's doing it, sometimes not, but Nicky plays with Kelly's hair every chance he gets. He always likes it better down, free from her trademark buns, loose and relinquishing control to the wind and weather. Her cheek rests on his bare chest, his arm around her, gently turning coffee-colored tresses around his fingers.

"I should go…"

She shakes her head, her cheek brushing his skin, a lulling, back and forth movement. "Don't."

_Don't leave me alone_. _Don't make me feel like a used little whore_. He can read it in the sound of her voice and getting out of bed is the last thing he wants to do right now.

"Kelly, I have to," Nicky replies. "Your mom will be home soon and my car's parked in the driveway. Something tells me the, _oh, we just fell asleep _excuse won't work here. With the way she reads people? She'll know within seconds and then all hell breaks loose for both of us. How our families used to be tight is one thing, me deflowering her daughter?"

"Deflowering?" Kelly wrinkles her nose. "Okay, I don't want to hear you say that word ever again. Plus, I like to think it was a mutual trade-off."

"Trade-off? That's supposed to be a better word? Real romantic, Parks." Nicky chuckles. He starts to stir, anxiously looking over at the nearby clock. Taking the hint, Kelly presses the sheets tight to her chest as she sits up so he can move out from beneath her. Before leaving her completely, Nicky slides his hand up her cheek and she looks right into his eyes. "You know I'd rather stay, but I'd also rather leave on my own, not be chased out by your mom and a taser."

"Fine. Then go."

He reads the disappointment in her eyes and in her voice and in the way she lays her hand over his, but doesn't lace their fingers. She's waiting for him to. Nicky hates making her feel this so he does her one better and kisses her, hoping to chase away whatever doubt she might have.

"I'm not going anywhere, Parks," he whispers against her lips. "Promise."

Kelly nods her head and lets him go.

In the morning, Nicky rings the doorbell and shows up on the front porch with breakfast from the vegan place downtown that caters to their specific diets. While they sit at the dining room table and listen to Sheila recount her night out on the town, Nicky and Kelly sit across from one another, trying not to be too obvious every time their feet playfully touch beneath the table.

…

It doesn't surprise him when Don is nowhere to be found on Michelle's birthday. He isn't around much on any other given day so why should a special occasion be any different?

Sheila is out of town on business. Nicky asks Kelly what that's about, but she just tells him that her mom doesn't tell her anything other than what to do. Usually, when Nicky does a little something in memory of his mom, he does it on his own and by himself, but since Kelly's all alone in Denver, he texted her to come over and pick up a few ingredients on the way.

Nicky slides the tray of cupcakes into the perfectly tempered oven and closes the door. After setting the timer, Nicky turns to Kelly who's sitting on the counter, kicking her legs back and forth and inspecting her nails. "Thanks for all the help with the baking, Kel," he says sarcastically. She didn't even lift a finger.

"What? I picked up all ingredients and I'm not eating any of it anyways."

"Um, yeah you are," Nicky says, moving the empty mixing bowls into the sink.

"Um, no. Nick, that's like, a thousand calories a bite. No, thanks."

"C'mon," Nicky huffs. "It's not like you eat like this every day. Kelly, it's my mom's birthday."

"You did not just use that against me. You're such a jerk." Dramatically gasping, Kelly grabs for whatever is nearby—the Betty Crocker mix box—and throws it at him. Washing the dishes, Nicky brings up his shoulders as the empty box hits him and he laughs, not one bit bothered. After the box falls to the ground, Kelly stares at it, nostalgic.

"I remember when your mom would bake cupcakes for us," Kelly reminisces. "Your dad would always tease her about loving baking, but never baking anything from scratch."

Nicky grins, pulling up the same memory. "Yeah, she'd always say the ones from the box taste better and dad would say it's like comparing authentic Mexican food from Mexico and Taco Bell." Shutting off the faucet and shaking the water off his hands, Nicky mumbles, "I miss them."

"Nick," Kelly says softly. "You still have your dad."

"Barely."

"Trust me, barely is better than having him choose Africa over you," Kelly says. After drying off his hands, Nicky walks over and wraps his arms around her in a hug. They do that a lot now. Hug. Hold each other. He presses his forehead to hers and closes his eyes, enjoying just being close. "It's okay though. I'm over it."

Kelly says that all the time, but she brings it up enough to show that the wound is yet to completely heal.

"And you've got me," Nicky reminds her.

"Yeah," she says, curling her fingers into the sides of his shirt. "And you've got me too."

He feels her lips gentle against his when he can't help himself and starts laughing. She quickly pulls away and Nicky opens his eyes, smiling lazily despite how she demands to know what he thinks is so funny.

"I just figured you out," he says with a broad grin. Kelly stares at him with raised eyebrows, prompting him to go on. "You act like a bitch and want people to think you're a bitch, but underneath," Nicky gently kisses her cheek, "you're secretly really sweet." He kisses her other cheek.

Now it's Kelly's turn to laugh, bringing her hand to the nape of his neck. "Wrong. I'm only being sweet to you because it's your mom's birthday. Tomorrow I go back to being a bitch."

"In that case, I'm getting you to eat at least three cupcakes tonight."

"Eww. We'll see." Nicky grins as he spins away from her, picks up the mix box on the floor and goes to put it in the trash. "So, what else are we doing tonight?"

"Usually, I sit around, eat cupcakes and watch our old home videos."

"Perfect."

Waiting for the cupcakes to finish baking, they make out with her sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter and him standing between her knees. When the buzzer goes off, Nicky pulls away and Kelly grumbles, trying to keep him where he's at, but he knows her diabolical plan. Kelly's just distracting him, hoping the cupcakes will burn so he won't make her eat them. There's no way Nicky's letting that happen.

The cupcakes come out perfect, just like he remembers as a kid, and once they cool, he gets Kelly to help frost them to perfection. They then move to the living room where Nicky set up the VCR he dug up from the basement and hooked up to the flatscreen mounted on the wall.

"Do you know what's on all these tapes?" Kelly asks, inspecting the cardboard box of videotapes.

"Most of them. Not all." Nicky peels back the wrapper of one of his cupcakes, yellow cake slathered in chocolate frosting. He holds it up to her, but Kelly pushes his arm away.

"Eww, Nick, what if your parents made a sex tape and it's somewhere in this box?"

Swallowing hard, Nicky deadpans, lowering his hand, still holding half a cupcake. "Why would you ask me that while I'm eating? Why would you put that thought in my head at all?"

Sinking back into the couch cushions, Kelly smiles deviously. "See. Screw sweet. I'm all bitch."

"Point proven," Nicky says, finishing off his cupcake and licking his lips. "Most of them are labeled. Pick one."

As Nicky stuffs his mouth, Kelly rummages through the collection of obsolete videotapes. When she finds one she likes, Kelly takes it over to the VCR and puts it in. She makes sure it's rewound all the way to the beginning before pressing play and scurrying back over to Nicky. When the picture comes on screen, it's Nicky's second grade play, right before he dropped out of school to pursue gymnastics. In it, the Russos are in their NYC townhouse, Don recording and teasing Nicky as his mom paints his face to match the elephant costume he's wearing.

"Noah's ark," Nicky explains. "Wait for it. During the actual performance, I get shoved accidentally and fall off the ark. My dad always threatened to send this in to America's Funniest Home Videos."

"You were so cute," Kelly coos. "What happened to you between then and now?"

They watch a few more, some of Nicky doing gymnastics while his parents try to pretend they're commentators even though they know nothing of the technical side of the sport. There's the year the Parkers visited the city for Don's birthday and Kelly squeals at how cute she is as a child. While they watch the one from the Christmas Nicky gave her the star currently around her neck, he finally gets her to eat a cupcake. When frosting smudges right above her top lip, Nicky leans over and kisses it off.

"You taste sweet," he whispers against her. Losing interest in what's happening on the TV, Kelly brings her hand to his jaw and draws him close to kiss again. Nicky's hand creeps up under her shirt and Kelly laughs, pushing him away.

"Nick, quit trying to feel me up in front of your mom," Kelly teases, glancing over at the framed photo of Michelle Russo that sits on the coffee table, a cupcake in front of it, almost like an offering, even with a birthday candle.

"Sorry, mom, Kelly and I do that sometimes. I hope that's cool," Nicky says. He then turns to Kelly, who shakes her head and calls him a dork. "See how easy it was to tell my mom? You should try it and tell yours."

"Sure, if you want her to run you over with the Kelly Parker mobile," she replies, snuggling up close at his side. "And I don't want that to happen."

"Careful, Parks, you're being sweet again." He brushes his lips across her forehead. "But it's okay. I can keep it a secret."

…

They totally are dating even if they won't agree to call it that. Nicky isn't shy about wanting her to be his girlfriend. Kelly, on the other hand, brings up how dating, especially in the gym, is strongly frowned down upon and how her mom and Marty aren't going to like it, and sneaking around means unnecessary paranoia. There's also the reason she doesn't talk about, but is always there: her completely rational fear that agreeing to date is just one step closer to breaking up and hating each other like her parents do. Kelly's lengthy list frustrates him to the point where Nicky calls her out, says she's just scared and it ends with them fighting.

Things only get worse when Carter Anderson comes to town.

"Eww, look at him," Kelly says. Her face clearly shows how sickened she is by the new transplant from Boulder. "I can smell his musty, Rock Reject stench from here. It's nauseating."

"Who can argue with that," her mother agrees, scoping out the newest addition to the DE family. "But we can easily make this work to our advantage. Nicky's fake romance with the airhead, Kaylie Cruz, might have been a dud, but this one actually dated her. We can work with this."

"Kaylie doesn't even care about Carter anymore," Kelly argues.

"Use your brain, dumb-dumb," Sheila says, giving Kelly a little nudge. "The easiest way to anyone's heart is through their past. You use Jew Fro over there to dig up something good on the Rock girls, it'll be the quickest way to hook them and hang them out to dry. Haven't I taught you anything?"

"Right, mom."

"Now, go. Make me proud."

Kelly builds herself up as she walks over to Carter, who's bent over, rummaging through his gym bag on the ground. She knows Nicky's watching. She can feel his eyes on her, but not in the way that gives her confidence, like when she's on beam or bars or giving him secret smiles when no one is paying attention. Right now, however, the way he looks at her makes her apprehensive. Even more so, knowing that even if she explains the gameplan to him, he won't like it. Then he'll bitch about it and they'll end up fighting again. Whatever. She has bigger moves to make. Damage control can come later.

"Hey," Kelly says.

Hearing her voice, Carter quickly straightens, tossing his head back so that his chocolate curls go flying backwards like he's in a hair commercial or something. Honestly, it scares Kelly who quickly reacts by taking a step back. Oh yeah, pretending not to be awkward comes so easy to her.

"Kelly Parker," he says. "Hey."

"As the number one gymnast here at Denver Elite, it's my job to welcome all our new gymnasts. You made the right choice, leaving the Rock," Kelly says. He smirks at her in this sleazy way that assumes, _oh yeah, she's so into me_, and Kelly hates that, has no clue what the Rock girls even saw in this guy (a mediocre gymnast at best) but smiles like attention from him is like air to her. "Have you gotten the tour yet?"

"Yeah, but another wouldn't hurt, right? We wouldn't want me accidentally ending up in the girls' locker room, would we?" he says. Kelly forces out a giggle. "Yeah, a tour would be great. Especially from you."

Kelly gives him a flirty smile in return and starts leading him towards the weight room. She treats this like when her mom is showing her off at a party. She slips on a smile and says all the right things at the right time. Carter doesn't even react with any sort of suspicion at all. Kelly's sure she'll have him spilling secrets in less than forty-eight hours.

She kind of ditches Nicky at lunch, introduces Carter to some of the main players on the DE game board, and she feels a little bad (not _too much; _she _is_ Kelly Parker) but figures Nicky will understand. At the end of the day, Nicky leaves without saying goodbye to her and won't answer any of her calls or texts. After the third time she's sent to voicemail, Kelly scoffs and gives up. If he wants to be a little bitch about it then that's fine by her. It isn't like he's her boyfriend and she certainly isn't his girlfriend so whatever.

This is exactly why she doesn't want to date him because dating means he'll be hers and she'll be his and then he's going to think he has a right to be a jealous asshole all the time and it already pisses her off and they aren't even officially together.

When Nicky finally calls her back, Kelly ignores it and texts Carter instead. It's just easier to talk about the Rock girls and hair with the boy she's manipulating than to talk about feelings and crap with the boy she might honestly be in love with.

…

"No, horrible. You're doing it all wrong. Get down from there, Russo!"

Listening to his coach, Nicky expertly drops down from the rings and lands on the mat below, rotating his taped wrists. Looking stressed and disappointed, Marty glances between his gymnast and his clipboard, but Nicky's eyes are across the room, searching for Kelly. She's all he ever thinks about and that's been true for a long time; however, with the arrival of Carter Anderson, their lives have gotten a little more complicated than they need to be.

"What is wrong with you?" Marty asks him, direct and stern. "What is it? Trouble at home? Girls?"

"I don't bother with any of that," Nicky says coldly. "I'm a serious elite gymnast."

Marty deadpans, crossing his arms. "So it's about a girl, then?"

Nicky looks down because looking at Kelly would be too big of a giveaway. Plus, she's by the water cooler and it isn't surprising that the Rock castoff is with her, probably shaking out his glossy, feathered hair like a peacock desperate for attention. Nicky scratches the back of his own head, feeling Marty's harsh, demanding stare. "I don't…I…"

"Listen, I don't know who this girl is or what's going on with you and her, but whatever it is it's showing in your gymnastics. You're too tense. Your head isn't where it needs to be," Marty says. He looks at the ceiling for a moment and then asks, "So Sasha has his ominous No Dating Rule at the Rock, right?" Nicky nods. "Well, we don't."

Suspiciously narrowing his eyes, Nicky asks, "Why not?"

"Your personal life is what you make of it. What you do when you aren't in the gym is your business. My only rule is you leave it at the door and I don't want to see it ever, not in person, not in the paper and not even any gossip blogs. I can't pretend I didn't get into some trouble when I was your age when it came to girls just like you can't pretend you're an actual robot. I also learned that gymnastics is stressful enough, you don't need added stress on the outside."

"That actually makes sense…"

"God no do I want the details," Marty says, waving his arms for emphasis. "Just fix it. Take five, get it together and try it again."

"Yes, sir."

How he manages to concentrate for the rest of the day is unimaginable. All he wants to do is talk to Kelly and tell her that Marty kind of encouraged them dating even if he didn't know the specifics. Nicky's been something of a wreck because her refusal to be his girlfriend feels a little like continual rejection. After what happened with Payson and Kaylie, Nicky can't keep doing this, putting himself out there for a girl who doesn't want him.

Nicky tries to pull her aside a number of times, but it feels like someone's always around. If not Marty then Sheila is sitting in on practice or Carter or all those DE jerks and girls who flock around her, pawns waiting to be played. Then there's the fact that she's giving him the silent treatment, either still pissed off at him or running scared. One day, his frustration mounts and Nicky can't take it anymore. She ditches him at lunch (again) and she's hanging out with the others, the ones she usually ditches to hang out with him.

Jesus, this is what he'd imagine high school to be like. Nicky is forever the outsider, too focused on what really matters and too socially awkward to be considered cool. Meanwhile, there's Kelly with those douche bags, having their superficial conversations, but at least they look cool while doing it. Nicky's about to walk out and get some air when he notices the way Carter had his arm around Kelly and she isn't telling him to get away or anything. She just laughs that fake as hell laugh he hates. Too heated to turn back, Nicky walks over.

"Hey, Russo," Kelly says slowly. He doesn't ever try to socialize with them, which is why she looks so surprised. When Nicky's right in front of her, Kelly finally pushes Carter away from her, making certain they aren't touching anymore.

"Transfer buddy!" Carter calls out. Nicky doesn't reply, just stares at him. "How glad are you that you left the Rock, huh? Way better facility, better staff." Carter grins at Kelly and it's clear she paves over disgust with a smile. Nicky sees it and knows it, but finds no comfort in it. "The company isn't bad either."

"Good for you," Nicky says coldly.

"Oh shit. _It_ speaks," jeers Flex Jordan, head jackass at Denver Elite. As expected, Joey O'Doherty's hyena laugh follows and it drowns out the giggles from the girls sitting with them. "Damn, Russo, and this whole time I thought you were literally retarded or something."

"Yeah," Joey agrees. "Like you were training for the _Special_ Olympics."

"Leave him alone," Kelly sneers, not finding their teasing one bit entertaining. She immediately shuts up the girls, but the boys don't seem intimidate, still with their smirks, bumping fists at the knuckles.

"Kelly, you think we could talk for a sec?" Nicky asks. The social anxiety is weighs on him though he tries to come off as cool and detached. Having all these people staring at him like he's on stage, meant to entertain them, makes him more than self-conscious and uncomfortable.

"Yo, we're hanging. Can't you see she's a little busy?" Flex snorts with laughter. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you about to ask her out? You, Whatever Your First Name Is Russo and Kelly Parker?" Kelly glares his way, but that doesn't seem to be enough to stop Flex. "Nah, man, it's cool. Go on and ask her. We gotta watch this."

"Flex, fuck off," Kelly hisses.

"My apologies," Flex says. "You wanna tear him apart yourself, huh? At least wait till he asks you first. C'mon, Russo, grab your balls and ask her."

"What's your problem, Flex?" Nicky asks. He's hit his limit, annoyed beyond comprehension. He steps up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight if necessary. "I don't think I've ever said a word to you."

"That's your problem, boy," Flex replies, standing to get in Nicky's face. "You come to our gym then start walking around here like you're better than the rest of us. Newsflash, you ain't shit. You're just some sad, fucking weirdass always making stalker eyes at Kelly. It's pathetic, man. No one wants you here. It don't surprise me the Rock didn't neither."

With his chin raised, Nicky takes another step towards Flex, fists balled, and Kelly steps between them, a hand on each of their shoulders, pushing them apart. "Cut it out," Kelly commands. "Don't do anything stupid. Marty and Ellen Beals are right in their offices. Just let it go."

Flex turns to her, brows knitted in confusion. "Why are you protecting this loser?"

"I'm not protecting him. I'm protecting _me_. If you piss off Marty, he's going to take it out on the entire gym and I don't need that, thank you very much," Kelly quickly replies. "Why are you being an asshole and attacking me?"

"Just out for yourself? Wow. Nice, Parks." Feeling bruised, Nicky falls back and shakes his head. He sees the, _oh fuck_ expression on Kelly's face when she realizes what she said, but he's over this. Whatever. Nicky just turns and walks away. He doesn't even stop when he hears her shouting after him.

"Nick, wait!" When they're out of earshot of the others, standing in the hallway, Kelly practically sprints up to him and grabs his arm, turning back around to face her. "Nick, stop. I wasn't thinking when I said that."

"Why are you even hanging out with those guys?"

Kelly shrugs. "I don't know. I just, always have." Clearly that isn't a good enough answer so Kelly sighs and says, "Everyone is afraid of Flex. He has power in this place. Joey's dad is one of the richest, most important people in Colorado. And Carter…he's Rock girl kryptonite. Does it even matter? It isn't like I hang out with them outside the gym. Hanging out with them is like a job."

"But it's so fake I can't even take it."

"You think I'm fake?"

"Yes," Nicky answers honestly.

Her face drops, eye twitches, looking rather hurt. "Ouch, Nick."

Feeling like a horrible person, Nicky rubs his hand across his face. "What else would you call it, Kelly?"

"Keeping up appearances. Networking. Digging up future blackmail," she lists. "I know you don't get it, but it's what I do and I'm damn good at it. And if you think I'll stop just because you don't like it, screw you."

"He was touching you…"

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I agree. That was weird. It isn't happening again." Her expression softens and she lightly runs her fingers down the back of his hand. "Nick, don't listen to those guys. They're just jealous. You're a better gymnast than all of them combined and everyone knows it so stop with the brooding."

Looking up from the floor and at her, Nicky asks, "Go out with me?"

Kelly's hand moves away from his and all she can manage to do is stare blankly. When he says it again, louder and with more confidence, Kelly quickly looks around, afraid someone might overhear. "Keep it down, Nicky. Are you crazy? I don't want to talk about this here."

"You don't want to talk about it anywhere!" he shouts, on purpose, just because it's the opposite of what she asked of him. "What is it?" Nicky asks, much softer, close to breaking. "Is it me?"

"Shut up." Kelly moves in front of him and digs her fingers into his shirt. If they weren't in the gym, as public as any place can be, they'd probably be kissing already, the one more effective form of reassurance than talking. Instead, Kelly whispers, "Don't be an idiot. There's nothing wrong with you."

"Go out with me," Nicky again, more of a statement than a plea.

He stares deep into her eyes, waiting for her reply that'll surely tip the scale of their relationship. He has her hands in his, holding tightly, shameless eye contact. He wants her, all of her, commitment. By her delay, it's obvious Kelly doesn't know if she can give him that. When they hear the click of heels against the floor, Kelly quickly tries to pull away, but Nicky won't let her.

"Nick, someone's coming."

"Kel, what are you so afraid of?"

"Let. Go."

Nicky loosens his grip and Kelly furiously pulls away. They both realize the clicking has stopped and turn to see Ellen Beals watching them. Both gymnasts avoid making eye contact with her and with each other at all cost. Beals must have seen or heard something with the level of suspicion in her eyes, but she doesn't comment and goes on her way.

Once she's gone, Kelly lowers her voice and says, "See. That's exactly why we can't do this here. We'll talk about it later, okay?"

Nicky doesn't say anything, just nods, letting his fingertips skim the back of her hand like she'd been doing to him earlier. Kelly gives him a smile and not one of the fake ass ones in pictures or around faceless no ones, but a real one just for him.

…

"Kelly, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" she asks distractedly. Right as her mom walks into her room, Kelly slides her phone under a pillow. Sitting against the headboard, already in pajamas, Kelly had been trying to work up the nerve to send Nicky the text message she typed out maybe an hour ago, playing with the idea of being his girlfriend.

"I got an interesting call from Ellen Beals just now," Sheila explains. "She told me about a little altercation between Nicky and Flex, said she talked to some of the other gymnasts and they said Nicky walked over and started causing trouble. And then she mentioned something about turning a corner and interrupting Nicky and you looking _intimate_."

Kelly fills with dread, but tries her best not to let it show. The one upside is she didn't actually have to listen to this conversation between her mom and Ellen Beals because eww, awkward.

"It's not like that at all," Kelly assures her. "You know Nick. He doesn't just walk over and start random fights. Flex feels threatened, which is only expected, Nick being a way better gymnast than him. He started saying stupid things and I was just trying to calm Nick down after."

"That's it?" Sheila asks. "Nothing about Nicky asking you out?"

Fucking Ellen Beals. That Goddamn bitch. Kelly strongly doubts Beals is going around gossiping like this with everyone else's parents.

"No."

"Really?" Sheila asks, not afraid to let her disbelief show. "So Ellen is lying to me? Is that what you're saying? Kelly, you do not get to lie to me."

"Okay, so what if he asked me out?" Kelly says. She knows she's playing straight into her mom's trap, but whatever, because keeping things from Sheila Buboyan doesn't happen. She's crack sooner or later anyways. "Nick, he does it all the time. I don't know. Maybe he's lonely." Kelly inwardly cringes. If h got mad when she denied defending him, Nicky would probably pop a blood vessel if he heard her say that. "I said no anyways. I always do…"

"But you want to say yes, don't you?" Sheila asks quickly. She's a fast talker like that. "I remember when your father and I were younger, playing hard to get…he had to ask me out at least a dozen times before I finally gave in and said yes."

Kelly hates that reminiscent look on her mother's face. How can she look back so nostalgically at happy memories when she doesn't even talk to Richard anymore?

"Okay, mom, no offense, but eww," Kelly says. "Nick and me aren't you and dad." The idea alone scares Kelly half to death. "It was stupid and now it's over. I don't want to talk about it. I just want to go to sleep."

"Well, that's just too bad for you because, yes, we are talking about it," Sheila says sternly. She hikes up her long dress a bit and sits at the foot of Kelly's bed, apparently planning to stay. "You may not think so, but as your manager, and even more as your mother, I do have a right to know what's going on with you, your personal life especially. Are you and Nicky…have things…? Have you…?"

It's the strangest thing in the world, seeing her mom, a woman who always knows what to say, lose her shit like this.

"Mom, don't be mad at Nick."

Sheila's eyes widen at her words, the quickness and the guilt. "What happened?"

"Nothing, really," Kelly lies. They've hooked up a handful of times now. It's gotten to the point where she isn't even ashamed of asking him to stay afterwards and sometimes, when her mom's out of town on business, he actually does. "But Nick, other than always asking me out, he wants to like, be my boyfriend or whatever and I keep telling him that's stupid. We're elite gymnasts. We don't have time for that. He used to say that all the time, but now..."

"The more I think of it, the more I think we could use this. With how the media shamelessly sold Kaylicky and the public ate it up, having him choose you over her, every important gossip rag on the stands would have a field day," Sheila says excitedly. "But I'll remind you about your priorities. The Olympics is coming up fast and that's where your head should be. Focused on winning. That's where his head should be too. I love Nicky, you know that, but maybe it'd be better if you didn't. You two have been at a slow simmer all your lives. What difference would another couple years make?"

PR nightmare or stop completely? Those are her options? Seriously?

"Yeah, I guess…"

"Tell you what, I'm not making this decision for you." Kaylie's jaw drops. This never happens. "I want you to sleep on it and be smart about how you decide to handle this. I raised you right. I know you'll do what's best for you and if you don't, well, then there's no one to blame, but yourself," Sheila says. "Oh, look at this face. So, _so _pretty. I knew it'd get you into trouble one day." Sheila touches Kelly's shoulder before lightly kissing her cheek. "Sweet dreams, baby."

"G'night, mom."

After Sheila leaves the room, she carefully closes Kelly's bedroom door behind her and just stands there for a moment. She knew to expect this. Kelly is beautiful, has been since the day she was born and Sheila has made it her personal mission to get the world to notice. Of course, boys would notice. Of course, it would be Nicky Russo.

Needing a drink, Sheila makes her way downstairs to the office. It still smells like Richard. Even some of the things on the desk are his and untouched. She's been meaning to hire people to box it all up, but never got around to doing it, being a hotshot manager and all. Sheila fixes herself a nice martini at the little drink bar and sits in Richard's old leather chair, pulling out her cell phone and dialing.

"Hello?"

"Richard. It's Sheila. Bad time? We wouldn't want the Viagra to wear off before you get yours, now would we?"

"It's far from midnight and already with the drunk dials and the cheap jabs? I think this may be your new personal best, darling."

"Rich, pipe down," she demands. "I'm trying to tell you something important about our daughter."

"Kelly?" Suddenly, his voice is urgent, terrified. "What's wrong? Did something happen? Is she hurt? I can be on the first flight back in the morn—"

"No. Settle down. She's okay…for now. But there's no telling what'll happen in the next few days," Sheila says. She stares at the drink she made herself, but now that her ex-husband has mentioned it, she's sure to steer clear. "She's in love, Rich. With Nicky." His laughter is right in her ear and she finds it terribly annoying. "That is not something to laugh about!"

"I'm only laughing because we all knew this was going to happen sooner or later."

"Sure, but I'd have much rather it be later, after the 2012 Olympics, maybe after 2016 too," Sheila says thoughtfully. "Sure, we joked when they were little, but there was no way of knowing they'd both end up serious gymnasts, trying to make it to the Olympics. I mean, I could always tell there was something there, but now he's getting into fights over her in the gym and it isn't good for either of them."

"Fights? Nicky Russo? With who?"

"That isn't important. What am I supposed to do, Rich?"

"You're asking _me_ for parenting advice? After you essentially took away my legal rights as a parent?"

"Would you rather I call up Don? Lord knows he has as much a chance to win a Parent of the Year award as I do," Sheila says. She isn't disillusioned about her flaws. She knows she can be intense, especially when it comes to her work and Kelly's career, but she doesn't know how to stop either.

"I see." Richard pauses, collecting his thoughts. "There isn't anything you can do. Yanking her around on a chain when it comes to gymnastics and her career is one thing, trying to decide this for her or manipulating her into whatever outcome you want is just going to make a mess of things. Just stick to what you know, the business, leave her heart to her."

"Easier said than done."

"You can do a lot of things for her, Sheila, but you can't live her life for her."

"I can try," she mutters begrudgingly. Richard scoffs and Sheila laughs. "Lighten up, Richie."

"I'm sorry. That's a little hard when your ex-wife calls you out of the blue like this, with something like this," he says. "Regardless, I'm glad you did. Kelly and Nicky, huh? Finally. Ha, can you imagine how Michelle would have reacted?"

"Oh, how much fun would it be to rub it in her face? And she'd owe me fifty bucks," Sheila says. Her lip trembles a bit and her eyes glaze at the memory of her friend, lost too young too soon. "Anyways, I need to go. Big day tomorrow. Meeting with a new client."

"I should too. It's getting late," he says. "I'd appreciate it if you kept me updated. And don't go scaring her away from love. Being in love, it was a great experience, wasn't it?"

Sheila has tears silently running down her cheeks as she replies, "Yes, it was."

…

It's by far the most efficient type of instant gratification when Nicky merely thinks of Kelly and the next second she walks right into his room.

Nicky blinks a few times, but she doesn't disappear. He watches as she drops her bag at the foot of his bed, kicks off her shoes and crawls over to him. She pulls his arm around her as she lies on her side and he curls up behind her, both beneath the sheets. They don't say a word; just stay like that. It's a nice little moment before words inevitably ruin it.

"I'm sorry," Nicky murmurs. He runs his thumb beneath the edge of her shirt, catching skin. Kelly turns so that she's facing him, looking right up into his dark eyes. "Flex just pisses me off and Joey makes it worse and Rock Rebel Sloppy Seconds was touching you and you were letting him."

"You can't honestly think I'm into Carter Anderson, do you?"

"You mean Car-Car, don't you?" Nicky retorts. "At least, that's your pet name for him, right?"

Kelly rolls her eyes, noticeably irritated. "I've told you a million times. It's all apart of the game."

"What if I don't like it when you play games with other guys?" Nicky asks. "I don't even know if I like it when you play games with me."

"Well, tough shit. It's apart of gymnastics and gymnastics is life," Kelly says, so strongly believing in ever words she says. "I know I don't have to tell you what that's like."

"So I'm supposed to just stand there while you flirt with guys like Carter Anderson and hang out with guys like Flex and accept that you're doing it because you have to? That's bull, Kel."

"How badly is this ruining your training?"

"You mean how I'm supposed to be completely focused and instead I'm wondering what he's saying to make you laugh like that by the water cooler?"

Kelly rolls her eyes. "It's called acting, genius. He isn't even that funny."

"That's what I hate most. How superficial you are when you're moving pieces on your giant, life chessboard," Nicky explains. "And I'm not trying to be a jerk. I'm just being honest. Kelly, I don't know if I can do this…"

"I was thinking the same thing," she says. "Remember when you made that promise to me, that you wouldn't leave me? I think you should break it. In fact, I want you to. Go back to the Rock or find another gym or something…"

"Are you kidding?" Nicky asks, untangling his fingers from hers and moving away. "You want me to leave? Why can't you just stop it?"

"I can't."

"Yes, you can," he argues. "Forget Nationals and Kaylie, you are the best gymnast I've ever seen. I don't even know why you bother with all the mind games and manipulation when your skill speaks for itself."

"Because I have to. Because it makes it easier to sleep at night, knowing I did everything I possibly could to win," she says. "You can't possibly imagine how much I need this, Nick."

"We all need it, Kelly. We wouldn't be putting ourselves through all this if we didn't."

"No. You and Kaylie Cruz and everyone else, you _want_ it. Friggin' Austin Tucker just has it dropped into his lap like nothing. I _need_ this. I am the only reason my mom and I aren't out on the streets right now. I support us and KPE and I put friggin' food on the table. Don't even pretend you know what that's like." He won't look at her and she hates that. "Nick, you're like, my only friend right now, my only friend ever and you said it yourself, you know me. This, my future, my career, it's everything to me. And you wanting to be my boyfriend and bugging me about it all the time isn't something I need right now."

What hurts most might by the fact that she means it and he knows it. They're both sitting up in his bed, on opposite ends, not touching, not even looking at each other. With his fingers laced in his lap, Nicky mutters, "So it is me."

"No," she cries. "Why do you keep thinking that?"

"Because Payson and Kaylie chose their friendship over me and now you're choosing your career over me?" Nicky says, loudly exhaling. "So it has to be me, right? I'm just wired wrong for this stuff and everyone knows it. Them I understand, I barely knew them, but you…"

"So what? I was like your safe option?" she asks sharply. "You thought, oh, I got rejected twice now, but there's always Kelly, maybe she's desperate enough to date me. Is that it?"

"No, you were never my safe option, Kelly. Never," he says, angry she'd even suggest it. "You're the one I tried to stay away from because, yeah, you're my only friend too. And after how close we got in Aspen, I freaked out. That's why I went after Payson and thought maybe Kaylie, because losing them, yeah, it'd suck and it did suck, but losing you? After how long we've known each other and everything we've been through together? I couldn't. But I couldn't stay away from you either. And now you want me to leave?"

"It's the best option for both of us," Kelly says strongly. "We can't keep doing this. You get jealous every time some other guy stands too close to me and my mom is asking questions about us. Becoming a couple isn't going to make things easier. I can't."

"Don't give me that," he says darkly. "Why me? I'm just starting to make progress with Marty, why do I have to be the one to leave?"

"Because that's how it has to be," Kelly says irritably. The answer should be obvious enough that she doesn't have to explain it to him. "I've been training in Denver since I was a kid. Kelly Parker is practically synonymous with Denver Elite and you—"

"Just the guy who comes in second to Austin Tucker," he murmurs, sounding so ashamed.

Kelly has that _oh crap_ expression on her face, sympathetically calling out to him. "Nick…"

"You should leave," Nicky says coldly. He stands and throws the door open with so much force it loudly slams into the wall behind it. "Go home, Kelly."

"Nick," she whines, thrusting her closed fists at the mattress. "I don't want you to be pissed at me. Why can't you understand where I'm coming from?"

"I do. I agree. Now, goodbye."

When another few seconds of silence pass, Nicky can't take it anymore. The anger and the frustration swirl inside him, threatening to burst. Without even acknowledging her there, staring at him, her eyes begging him not to be mad, Nicky swipes his car keys off the nightstand and he heads for the door himself. He gets into his SUV and drives around, thinking about his options. If he stays, things are just going to get worse, but leaving is the last thing he wants.

When he gets home, Kelly's gone and his dad isn't there so everything is dark and quiet. Nicky starts writing up his letter of resignation and takes to the Internet, looking for a new gym. As hard as this all is, Nicky knows the worst part is going to be telling Marty.

"You. Close the door. Sit," Marty orders, the next day when Nicky goes in early and knows on Marty's office door. Nicky does as asked while Marty sits behind his desk, waiting. "What happened to leaving all your personal issues out of the gym?"

"Flex happened," Nicky replies, slouching and folding his arms over his chest.

"Guys like Flex make it their mission to get under your skin. Isn't the first and won't be the last. Don't pay any attention to him," Marty says. "Now, I don't usually make it my business to keep up with whatever's going on in your personal lives, but I've been hearing things, specifically about you and Kelly Parker."

"Doesn't matter," Nicky says with a sigh. "It's over."

Despite how he says it with such finality, Nicky doesn't believe it. Is their story ever over?

"So that's a yes, then?"

"I think I'm leaving," Nicky says. Marty drops the pen in his hand and it thumps loudly onto the stack of papers on his desk. "And I, uh, wanted to tell you before I gave the office my, um, letter of resignation."

"What. Did. You. Do?" Marty asks, pausing between every word. Nicky can't really tell if it's for dramatic effect or that's as quick as he can get the words out. "You do know that when I said to take care of your girl problems I didn't know that girl was Kelly Parker? Dating in the general sense, fine, sure, but dating Kelly Parker? Are you brain damaged? Should I order a CT?"

"No, thanks," Nicky says awkwardly. "If anything, I'll get it checked out in Texas, which is where I'm headed. I talked to the head coach over there earlier this morning and my dad's making arrangements. I'm leaving a few days from now."

"You're making a mistake," Marty says. "We just got you on a new regimen, you're on track. Don't do this, kid. Walk out of the room, rip up that letter and we'll pretend this didn't happen."

"I'm sorry, but I already decided." Nicky stands and holds his hand out to Marty. "It was nice training with you again, coach."

Marty grunts, but rises out of his chair and shakes Nicky's hand. "You can't do it alone, you know?"

"Yeah, but I can't do it here either," Nicky says. He manages a smile despite how much he hates to do this. "Weren't you the one who said that when things don't fit, we have to pick up the pieces and move on?"

"Shitty advice. Don't listen," Marty says. Nicky laughs even if this situation is far from something to laugh about. "Take care, Russo."

"Yeah, you too."

Though he passes Kelly a number of times in the gym, Nicky doesn't tell her. He just averts his eyes and goes on with practice. He waits until late that night to text Kelly that he's leaving Denver. She replies seconds later, but he deletes it without even reading it. This is the exact type of drama he didn't want, the reason he left Boulder. This time around, he's committed to it. No more drama. Shut down emotion completely. Robot Russo makes a comeback.

The day he's slated to leave for Dallas, his father asks him if he's sure this is what he wants. Nicky just tosses the last of his suitcases into the trunk and assures Don that he _needs_ this. Nicky doesn't tell Kelly what time he's leaving or on what airlines. He just texts her, tells her that he doesn't want her to see him off and he reminds her that she can't be mad because all he's doing is what she asked for.

…

"Kelly, get up. This has gone on long enough."

The gymnast turns over in her bed and groans, pulling the sheets up over her head and shutting her eyes tight. In one swoop, the sheets are yanked off of her and she's met with the harsh light from the window, the exact one Nicky would crawl through when he'd come to see her after her mom went to sleep. As much as she wishes it were Nicky standing over her, it's Sheila.

"Mom," Kelly groans irritably, "I have one day off out of the entire week and I can do whatever I want with it. I'm tired. My ankle is bothering me and I just want to get some rest."

"No. Being pathetic isn't an option," Sheila tells her pointedly. "You've been lying around in bed since you got home from the gym last night and you've been moping since Nicky left town and I don't understand it. Aren't you the one who told him to go?"

"Only because I thought it was the right thing," Kelly argues. She still feels it was the smart choice no matter how empty her bed feels without him. "It was the right thing, wasn't it?"

"With the exhibition coming up?" Sheila says, and starts pacing. "Ellen is on the brink of a meltdown. She informed me Flex is out—knee surgery. Joey got arrested. My God, that means we're relying on the new guy from the Rock. This exhibition is everything. It could mean big things for Denver and Denver Elite and we need you at a hundred-percent. Can you do that?"

Kelly pulls her knees to her chest. "Yes, mom."

"I don't believe it," Sheila spits. "You don't look like a winner, you don't act like a winner. A winner wouldn't be crying in her bed every night because she broke her own heart." Kelly's eye twitches. She hates this all. "What did I tell you? I told you to be smart about this."

"I thought I was," Kelly says, voice rising in anger.

"Well, like I told you before, you set it all in motion and now you have to live with it. How am I supposed to trust you to make your own decisions for now on? Kelly, do I have to do everything for you?" Sheila says. Kelly squeezes her eyes shut and brings her knees up to her chest. Looking over her daughter, Sheila sighs heavily and sits at the foot of her bed. In a much calmer, even voice, Sheila continues, "Kelly, look at me. Look. At. Me."

Kelly peeks her eyes open, just a little, afraid.

"Do you think it was easy on me when my marriage fell apart?" Sheila asks. "I could feel your father starting to drift away long before the divorce and I'm sure I don't have to tell you that. But I got through it. I focused on what was important—work and you—and I did what I had to. Now, it's your turn to do the same. We can't just sit around and hide, especially at a time like this. You understand me?"

"Yes, mom," Kelly says, stronger and more determined this time.

"Good girl," Sheila says, patting her on the head. "Now, we're never mentioning any of this or Nicky Russo ever again. Put your game face on, baby. There are bigger things going on here than being in love. The sooner you learn that, the better."

…

The next time they see each other is at Worlds.

Kelly is already physically drained after the team all-around and emotionally drained after fighting it out with the Rock girls in the hotel room. So she does everything in her power to avoid running into Nicky and she's pretty sure he's doing the same. She inevitably sees him across the room at dinner, surrounded by his teammates, her with hers. Neither makes the effort to try to talk to the other. Both too scared.

She spots him sitting close and talking with Kaylie in the lobby after the women's team final. Kelly watches from around a corner, wondering where the hell Austin Tucker is when she could use him and how to manipulate him into punching Nicky like she did with Emily Kmetko's babydaddy. Nicky and Kaylie look so content together. Kelly wonders what she looks like standing next to him. Of course, she hasn't gone near him since that last time where he left her in his room.

It's hard to pinpoint the moment she starts gritting her teeth and narrowing her eyes. Maybe it's when Kelly starts paying too close attention to the way they laugh and smile together and how when they hug it's a little tighter and a little longer than old friends should. Taking a deep breath that makes her shoulders rise and fall, Kelly makes a beeline for them, reminding herself to make it seem more casual than an animal on the prowl.

"What's going on, Kay?" Kelly asks slowly.

Nicky and Kaylie pull away in the most awkward way, both their arms sort of flailing. It makes Kelly thinking, _wow, they're kind of cute together_; it just makes her irrationally angry. At who, she isn't quite sure, but mostly herself.

"Oh, hey, KP," Kaylie says, nervously twisting her fingers in her lap and smiling like the winner she is. "Nicky and I were just catching up."

"How nice," Kelly says. Ignoring Nicky completely, she goes and sits on the other side of Kaylie. "Watch out. After you kissed Mr. Kobalt in front of, oh, about a dozen photographers and news crews, seeing you all cozy with Russo here might give a few people the wrong idea. Who knows? It could lead to that beyond stupid Kaylicky thing all over again."

"Hi, Kelly. Nice seeing you again too," Nicky says sarcastically, looking around Kaylie and right at her. Kelly gives him a sharp look in return. What right does he have to sass her?

"So, speaking of my boyfriend," Kaylie says, when the silence becomes too awkward to be comfortable, "have you seen Austin around?"

Seeing Kaylie's inquiring expression, Kelly shrugs. "How am I supposed to know?"

"Well, you are an expert on Kaylie's boyfriends," Nicky chimes in. Kaylie immediately looks to him, her dark brows curved in confusion. His bitterness is so obvious it's just sad.

"At least I'm not the pathetic loser who desperately wishes he were Kaylie Cruz's boyfriend," Kelly retorts. "Or anyone's boyfriend. Poor repeatedly rejected Russo."

"I don't wish I dated Kaylie," Nicky says quickly. "No offense, Princess." He touches her shoulder to let her know he honestly didn't mean to offend her and Kelly hates how she notices every little detail like that. "By the way, nice use of alliteration there, Parker. I bet you've been wanting to use that one since I left."

"Yeah, along with wanting to kick your ass. But I'm sure Austin will take care of that during the men's all-around."

"Um, I don't know what's going on here, but can you please keep Austin and me out of it?" Kaylie asks. She has her shoulders squared, confused, stuck between Nicky and Kelly as they trade verbal punches.

"So Kelly," Nicky says, sounding more casual, leaning away and giving Kaylie a little more space. "Tell us. How's Car-Car?"

Kelly's jaw drops. "Oh, my God, Nick! You are such a jerk!"

"Okay, I'm just going to squeeze out of here and go look for Austin. It was, uh, nice talking to you, Nicky. KP, I'll see you back in the room," Kaylie quickly excuses herself and neither one of them can blame her. Before she completely ditches them, Kaylie turns back around and asks, "Oh, and just to make sure I got it right because Lo is for sure gonna ask when I tell her about this, this was just your twisted version of flirting, right?"

Nicky looks down because, yeah, awkward, and Kelly narrows her eyes at her teammate. Kaylie just smiles knowingly and walks away. When it's just the two of them, sharing a bench in the lobby, Nicky stares at her and Kelly feels it. She always does.

"Admit it. You were jealous when you saw Kaylie and me hanging out."

"You were like, in love with her and I caught you touching each other. How am I supposed to feel about that?" Kelly asks snidely. "Oh, and Nick, you really need to stop mentioning Carter. It got old a long time ago."

"There's nothing I want to talk about less," Nicky says. Looking down at their feet, he lightly kicks the side of her shoe with his. "You want to go for a walk with me?"

"The men's team final is tomorrow," she reminds him. "Shouldn't you be in your bubble?"

"You just won team gold. Shouldn't you be celebrating?"

Instead of answering, Kelly stands and starts walking to the front of the hotel with Nicky following after her. They walk around a bit, beneath the light of a half-moon in a clear sky. Nicky suggests they hike up to Big Jesus, Rio's single greatest landmark, and Kelly calls him stupid because the women's all-around final is in two days and she needs to rest up if she's going to own that. Walking along the beach, Nicky asks her what was up with Kaylie taking the floor in her place and Kelly tells him all about her mom and the journal and the drama.

"So is Texas everything you ever dreamed of?"

"It isn't like I wanted to leave," Nicky replies, dragging his large, angular feet through the sand. "How's DE without me?"

_Lonely. _

"It's alright," she lies. He's getting closer and closer to what he really wants to talk about and Kelly figures they might as well tackle it. They're going to have to if there's any way to salvage what's left between them. "Nick, about that time…"

"It's cool. Forget it. I'm over it."

Kelly looks up from the sand squished between her toes and right at him as he gazes out to the water. "Liar," she calls. "You're like, known for holding grudges. Remember that time I accidentally spilt nail polish on your first iPod? You wouldn't talk to me for the longest time even after I cried and got my dad to buy you a new one. And that was a stupid iPod."

"Yeah, it was just a stupid iPod and we were kids. Your story also proves how I can't ever stay mad at you, included now," he says. "You couldn't blame me if I did, though. You kinda broke my heart last time...it kinda sucked."

"Yeah, well, it kinda sucked when you totally shunned me," Kelly says. She can't believe she's telling him this, but when she starts she can't stop. "Nick, you didn't even give me the chance to say goodbye. I didn't even know what day you were leaving. I had to find out from Marty. When I said it'd be best if you left, I didn't mean cut off contact completely. You kinda broke my heart too…"

They take a couple steps in silence. A wave comes crashing and water surrounded their feet for a moment before being pulled back into the ocean. It leaves their skin cold against the night air. Refreshed. Cleansed.

"I'm sorry, Parks," he whispers. "And all that stuff about me calling you fake, I really was being an idiot. I know you. And now I get that it's a privilege not everyone gets a chance to earn and I'm grateful I do."

"It's cool. Forget it," Kelly mimics, meeting his eyes with a slight smile. "I'm over it."

Nicky smiles back just as another wave hits, touching their ankles. They walk to the end of the beach in silence, just listening to the soothing sound of the ocean. Kelly loops her arm through his when she tells him they should probably head back to the hotel. Nicky stops and asks, "So, does this mean we can go back to being friends?"

Standing in front of him, Kelly rises up on the tips of her bare toes. "_Just_ friends?"

He nods resolutely. "Yeah, I think it's best."

Hearing him say that, Kelly's heart sinks as she falls back flat on her feet. Nicky rakes his fingers through his hair, which means he feels it too. "Oh. Do you have a girlfriend or someone back in Texas?"

"No, nothing like that. Dating's a waste of time, remember?" Nicky smirks a little. "You were right. It's better for our gymnastics if we're apart."

Drawing closer to him, Kelly pouts. "I didn't want to be right…"

"But you were right," he says. With the light from the moon illuminating everything, Kelly sees how hard he's trying to resist what he feels, what they both want. "You were, um, right about everything." Kelly shakes her head, no, and her hands start at his abs, slowly moving up his chest and to his shoulders. "Uh, especially with how we distract each other, it isn't good for our careers and…yeah. We shouldn't…"

Humming lightly, Kelly lays her head on his chest, hugging him, trying to physically tell him everything she feels. Nicky just stops talking and hugs her back.

…

There are so many logistics to work out including travel expenses and how she'll ever get her mom's approval, but Nicky doesn't care, sending Kelly the same text over and over again.

_New Year's Eve in Aspen? _

Kelly receives one text every day since they left Rio. Her phone buzzes every morning, minutes after she wakes up. Her stomach does a flip at the thought that she's the first thing he thinks about every morning when he wakes up.

They still aren't official and they probably won't be for a while. Now they aren't preoccupied with being angry and it's easier to breath, which means it's easier to be and to train. They still bicker (24/7) and occasionally argue (about him coming back to Denver Elite) but the sarcastic comments and bitching each other out is better than not talking at all.

"Parker!" Marty shouts over to her. Thank God too. Carter keeps trying to talk to her and since Kelly has everything she needed from him, she burned that bridge. The guy really needs to learn how to take a hint. "Kelly, viewing room! You've got a visitor. Go ahead and take ten."

Marty never gives unplanned breaks. Who could it be?

Her curiosity builds and builds with every step that brings her closer. When she sees him through the glass wall of the viewing room, Kelly picks up the pace, runs in and throws her arms out, ready for a hug. "Dad!"

"Hey sweetie," Richard coos, holding her close and kissing the back of her head. He shuts his glassy eyes and they just stay like that, hugging for the first time in too long. "God, it's good to see you."

"What are you doing here? Does mom know?"

"Yes, your mom knows. She actually called me to demand I see you," Richard says, sitting and guiding her into the seat next to him. "She might have said something along the line of, oh, who knows, Rich? Maybe even _you_ can talk some sense into your daughter."

Kelly laughs at Richard's impression of her mother. "About what? Worlds? I, for one, think it went well."

"So well in fact that she wants to chaperone every meet you have from now on until you retire," he points out. "It might not count for much, but I thought you were incredible. Oh, don't look so surprised. Of course, I watched it. And I'm proud of you…but one note, these bun things? You're still doing your hair like this? Jesus, Kelly."

"Thanks, dad," Kelly says, half-meaning it, half-sarcastic. "It's my signature thing. Whatever. I don't want to talk about my hair. I want to hear about your life."

They spend a few minutes talking about Africa and he how he wants to bring her out for a medical mission once she retires ("A little philanthropy never hurt anyone") and the new apartment he bought in Colorado Springs, where he'll be living for now on. Kelly teases him about his full beard and Richard shakes his head, saying nothing she says will get him to do away with it. Richard then asks about her life and Kelly wears the biggest smile when she tells him she has friends—the girls from the Rock.

"I cannot get over the fact that mom called you," Kelly confesses. "Really?"

"I think it freaks her out that you're growing up, which is always entertaining for me," Richard says lightly. "The last time I spoke to her, she was telling me that little Nicky Russo was beating up boys in your honor and asking you to be his girlfriend."

Kelly rolls her eyes. "Dad, don't romanticize it."

"I'm just repeating what I heard," Richard says. "So how is Nicky?"

"Last time I saw him was at Worlds," Kelly replies, failing to fight a smile at the thought of their reunion. "He's good. He says Dallas is okay and he's coming home for Christmas. Actually, he, um, has this idea of us going to Aspen for New Years."

Richard grins at the memories that come up for him at the mention of Aspen. When his eyes move over to his daughter, he suddenly turns so seriously. "Just the two of you?"

Her eyes widen a little and her mouth drops open a smidge. Kelly thinks she might actually be blushing. He gives her this look and Kelly tries her hardest to pull herself together.

"_No_," she says. "You and Doc Russo too. We were hoping it'd be kinda like old times minus mom and you whisper-fighting when you assumed I was asleep." With a face painted with sympathy, Richard touches her shoulder and Kelly bites the inside of her cheek, not wanting to think about it. "And so what if it was just Nick and me? He's my best friend."

With a scowl, Richard gives her that look again and this time, Kelly straightens up in her seat, giving Richard the same look right back. It makes Richard chuckle and Kelly smiles in return.

"There. See that? Right there. That smile on your face is proof enough that I shouldn't be leaving you alone in a room with _that boy_," Richard says protectively. It makes her want to giggle, how quickly her dad goes to referring to Nicky as _that boy_. "Also, your mother seems to think you're in love with him, which also freaks her out, by the way."

"She does? Why hasn't she sent me to bed without supper over it?"

Richard grows serious and solemn. "She sends you to bed without eating?"

"Figure of speech, dad," Kelly assures him. "So, you and her talk about me?"

"Well, you are the only thing we have in common anymore."

Looking down at her lap, Kelly asks, "Why'd that happen, you think?"

"I don't really know, but, hey, you need to promise me that being afraid of falling out of love won't keep you from falling in love, alright?" Richard asks, playfully shaking her by her shoulders until Kelly smiles and laughs. "Hey, listen to your father! Okay?"

"Okay, okay," she agrees. "I should probably get back."

"Of course, go for it." The two stand and hug again. Kelly breathes in the scent of his aftershave, still trying to come to terms with the fact that he's actually back. "And I'll give Don a call about Aspen. We'll make it happen even if we have to kidnap him from that damn hospital. You aren't the only one that misses the old times."

"What about mom?"

"If someone needs a vacation, it's definitely your mother. A trip to the Bahamas, all expenses paid by me and I agree to take you off her hands, give her a break. How is she supposed to say no to that, huh?" Richard says. "You thought you got your quick thinking from your mother? Nu-uh. Quick thinking and good looks. All Parker."

Smiling against his suit jacket, Kelly whispers, "I really missed you, dad."

"I missed you too, sweetie."

…

The drive up to Aspen might be the most excruciating thing ever for Nicky. When he first proposed the idea of spending New Year's Eve in Aspen, Nicky imagined him and Kelly getting to hang out in the snow and make fun of people failing at snowboarding and skiing. He didn't exactly picture being alone in the backseat while his dad and Kelly's dad are at the front of the car, arguing over radio stations and calling each other old. It doesn't help any that Richard keeps sneaking Nicky these little suspicious looks.

"Don," Richard says from the front passenger seat, addressing his best friend from college, behind the wheel. "Did you know our kids are _dating_?"

Nicky swears he's going to have a stroke. What a way to end the year.

Grunting, Don keeps one hand on the wheel and resists the urge to glance back at his son. "Dating? No, I didn't. Nicky doesn't tell me anything."

"We aren't dating," Nicky says quickly. Richard turns to fully face him, demanding an explanation with his expression alone. "I mean, we've never actually _said_ that we were officially like, dating."

Richard's eyes narrow in a glare. Most likely, that's where Kelly learned it. "If you aren't _officially like, dating _then _what_ are you doing?"

"Yeah, Nicky!" Don shouts. "What _are_ you doing?"

Staring at the snow-covered trees that line the road, Nicky feels his face burning up, probably a deeply embarrassing shade of red. "What…? Nothing! We—"

"I knew it," Don interrupts. "I always found it a little strange how you up and moved to Texas of all places after being in Denver for such a short amount of time. What happened? Has to do with Kelly, doesn't it?"

"Exactly what I'd like to know," Richard agrees.

"It's, uh, complicated."

"Hear that, Donovan? _Complicated_." Richard doesn't sound too impressed and Don agrees with him like always. They're double-teaming him and Nicky is absolutely mortified, at a complete loss of control over this situation. "Nicky Russo, what are your intentions towards my daughter?"

As if this isn't already the most excruciating experience of his life, Dr. Parker has to go and ask him that and phrase it that way. Taking this as slow as he can, Nicky reminds himself to breath and thinks of something that hopefully isn't going to ruin the entire break for everyone. "I, um, I care about her, sir. Like, more than anyone. Ever. I love her. I…I think I'm _in love_ with her."

The entire car goes quiet except for the cowboy on the radio, crooning country classics.

"Well, just promise me you'll be safe and be smart," Don says awkward when no one else is willing to fill the silence. Nicky presses his temple to the freezing window, wanting to dig a hole in the seat cushion and stick his head in it. "If you get her pregnant, Sheila is going to kill you for sure."

Scowling, Richard turns his accusing eyes to Doc Russo. "That's your advice? Donovan, that's my daughter you're talking about! What's wrong with you?" Richard turns back to glance at Nicky, who has no idea what to expect anymore. "And, yes, Nicky, don't be mistaken. Sheila will kill you, though I'm sure Kelly will kill you first and then I get my turn." Settling back in his seat, Richard turns to Don. "And, _you_, I bet you never even tried to talk to him about sex."

"What's there to talk about? Nicky, you know where babies come from, don't you?"

"God," Nicky huffs. "You think you can pull over so I can shoot myself?"

The two older men exchange smiles and hearty laughs.

"I don't know what to say without being a complete cliché," Richard admits, combing his hair with his fingers.

Don just chuckles, appearing much more relaxed than Richard, which is understandable. "Looks like we're getting that wedding after all, Richie."

"I never doubted it for a second," Richard says playfully. He clears his throat and puts on a more serious tone. "You better watch yourself, Nicky. Her mother put me through hell, we got divorced and I still can't get away. Having Michelle write my vows for me really did come back to bite me in the ass. Forever really is forever. It isn't going to be easy. I see more of her mother in her than I'd like, but she's completely different at the same time. Just so you know what you're getting yourself into."

"I haven't given up on her yet," Nicky says. "And I don't plan to, sir."

Leaning back in his seat, Richard cools down some. "Donovan, how did you lucky out and get Nicky for a son?"

"All Michelle's doing. I'm sure of it."

The rest of the ride isn't so stressful, but Nicky is still reeling from the leftover anxiety. He wishes Kelly could have at least been there to suffer through it with him, but she had an interview with a local radio station and is meeting them in Aspen by plane instead. Once they arrive at the hotel he practically grew up in, Nicky goes straight to the gym to kill time. The next morning, he goes out to watch his dad and Richard try snowboarding. Nicky jokes that they're both too old and the two surgeons take off to prove him wrong.

Standing there, admiring the clear, blue sky and the fresh powder, suddenly Nicky gets slammed into from the side, losing his balance so he falls to the snow. He's disoriented for a moment, but then he feels the arms around him and hears familiar, girly giggles. Nicky adjusts so he can see Kelly's smiling face and he wraps his arms around her in a hug.

"Your balance sucks."

"Well, I didn't exactly expect to be tackled like that," he replies. Nicky pulls off one of his gloves with his teeth and caresses her cold cheek. "Hey, Parks."

"Hey," she says back. "I got bored on the plane and made you another mix."

Nicky playfully winces. "Sorry, but I think I upstaged you again. I named a star after us. It came with a Star Name Certificate and everything."

Her eyes widen. "Shut. Up."

"No, I didn't. Naming a star after us? As if we need to be even more of a cliché," he says with a laugh. Kelly smacks his chest for tricking her like that and Nicky kisses the tip of her cold nose. "Oh, and heads up, I told your dad I love you."

"Nice, Nick. Way to pull an Austin Tucker."

"No. How can you even compare me to that guy?" Nicky asks. "Kaylie said they barely knew anything about each other when he told her dad that he thought he was falling for her. Let's be real. You and me, it's about time."

"Exactly," Kelly says, toying with the zipper of his thick, waterproof coat. "As if my dad didn't already know. You're so obvious. By the way, what's with the text my dad sent me last night about how you were flirting with the waitress at dinner? Nick, you jerk. Don't even try to deny it. You're so busted."

Nicky's forehead crinkles. "Nu-uh. _She_ was flirting with _me_."

"Like there's a difference. Uh-huh, sure," Kelly sneers. "If she or any other slut tries to flirt with you again, you tell her that your girlfriend gets really pissed when shameless whores creep on her boyfriend."

"Wait. Did you just call yourself my girlfriend?"

"Maybe," she says playfully. "Did you just say you love me?"

"Like you don't already know," Nicky says quietly. "You do know, right? That I love you."

"Duh." With her gloved hands gripping his coat, Kelly kisses him. When a giggly group of little kids start throwing snow at them, Kelly quickly gets up, glaring like she's about to chase them down for payback, but Nicky holds her back, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

Though 2012 is fast approaching and there's so much that needs to be done in the New Year, Olympic trials included, when it comes to them and their relationship, there's no panic and definitely no one else. The way he grins at her and she smiles back is reassurance enough. Though Nicky said _I love you _first, they both know Kelly _felt it_ first. Even if she's yet to repeat it, that's okay. They have the rest of their lives to work on it and that's exactly what they intend to do.

…

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Commentary<strong>

**B**: Holy crap is this long! I know what you're thinking: one of us (or both of us) must be on crack. This was supposed to be a oneshot for my Christmas series, but then I innocently asked Jess for feedback and we started talking about how we never really explored the NR&KP childhood BFF backstory. That's why this piece was cray fun to write!

**LCTD**: What I had fun with was steering away from the typical BFFs who live next door and instead having their moments over time. I really like the idea/experience of having certain friends, where it doesn't matter how long you're apart, when you're together it's like no time passed at all.

**B**: Truth. What'd you call it? _To Be Continued_ Friendships?

**LCTD**: Ellipsis friendships. Where there's always a "…" at the end because it never really ends.

**B**: Badass. I was surprised and stoked at how much we showcased their parents, who (minus Sheila) are practically ours. Don and Richie bros forever. And aww, Michelle, who we always kill off. We finally gave her a name. I love them broken, shitty parents, but great characters.

**LCTD**: I guess. The concept of "the Death of the Fab Four" was interesting and I'm shocked I didn't cut much, you know, with how I hate writing adults and all.

**B**: Me dos.

**LCTD**: But you do a great Sheila!

**B**: Tenks, boo. ;) I feel it's easy to assume Sheila is abusive. Is there a KP abuse story out yet? If anyone has—awesome and no hate, I bet it's great, but I personally got more out of writing Sheila the way we did. To see why she is the way she is (losing Michelle, her marriage) and I do believe she's too smart to lay a hand on her breadwinner. With how often Kelly is in the spotlight? Eyes always watching. I figure Sheila would take it far, verbally and emotionally, but be smarter than to cross that line into the physical.

**LCTD**: Agreed. It's always easier to stand afar and criticize a terrible monster than dare to look closer and discover a flawed human.

**B**: We (or maybe just Jess) are way too deep for this show. LOL … Also, how sexy was this fic?

**LCTD**: Haha. It was practically softcore porn pre-edits.

**B:** LOL Shut up. I'm no perv! :P What I love about Nickelly in this 'verse is how there were so many misconnects, how she was in love with him from the get-go and he was dense and then roles reversed. I love when wires get crossed and things break, which I think is something I like to write about a lot.

**LCTD**: You do write about misconnects a lot…along with alcohol and parties. I was surprised by the lack of underage drinking in this. That's like your signature motif.

**B: **B'cause there was no Austin. He's my boozer… And can I say I hope KP gets a love interest next season? If she got herself a man we can stop writing Nicky/Kelly/Carter by default.

**LCTD**: Haha! You just want Car-Car all to yourself. :P

**B**: Hey! That's between Zachary and me! …And all of Twitter…LOL. I bet people reading this are like, yo, why the hell am I still reading this? :P Well, thank you to everyone reading and entertaining our insanity! I really do hope you liked it!

**LCTD**: And for everyone going back to school this week, I'm right there with you! Here's to a new year!

xoxo

* * *

><p>What did you like? Dislike? How insane are we for writing all of this? REVIEW.<p> 


End file.
